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V 



SEEN AND HEARD 

POEMS 

OR THE LIKE. 



MORRISON HEADY. 



BALTIMORE : 

HENRY C. TURNBULL, Jr. 
1869. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

MORRISON HEADY, 

In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the Unitea States for the 
District of Kentucky. 



t DEDICATION. 



TO MY FRIENDS- 



AND YE BE MY FRIENDS WHO READ MY BOOK- 



I DEDICATE WHATEVER OF EXCELLENCE OR BEAUTV 



YE MAY CHANCE TO FIND HEREIN 



TO Oblivion, the rest. 



(3) 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

THE DOUBLE NIGHT :— 

Darkness 7 

Silence 11 

To THE Shades 14 

PiESIGNATION 18 

YOOXEMSKOTA :— 

Prologue 21 

Mist and Moonshine 24 

The Hunting-Lodge 28 

Over the PvIver 31 

Sunrise 35 

The Council-Lodge 39 

Speech OF HwOraminta 41 

Speech of Black-Wolf 44 

Speech of Oheno 47 

Second Speech of Hworaminta 52 

Speech of Snake-Eye 58 

Speech of Yoonemskota 62 

The Death-Stake 69 

Yoonemskota's War-Song 73 

Sunset 78 

moonrise 82 

(4; 



CONTENTS. V. 

P&OE. 

FiREi) 87 

Yoonemskota's Death-Song 91 

Quenched 95 

Hush! He Dreams 99 

HistI She Comes 105 

Lol They Fly 108 

Down the Eiver 114 

Yoonemskota's Peace Song 118 

Epilogue 123 

THE END OF TIME 12G 

BLINDNESS 133 

DEATH OF A ROSE 137 

TWICE IN FANCY 140 

MY DREAM OF PENSYLLA 145 

DREAMING. A Fragment 150 

FRAGMENT 163 

THE APOCALYPSE OF THE SEASONS :— 

A Spring Morning 15G 

A Summer Noon 158 

An Autumn Evening IGl 

A Winter Night 1G3 

Dawning Glimpses of Immortality 1G7 






PREFACE. 

Mb. Morrison Heady, the author of these poems, was born 
in Spencer County, Kentucky, and is now nearly forty years of 
age. When about sixteen years old, he suffered an injury to one of 
his eyes which resulted in total loss of sight in both, and this calam- 
ity was soon aggravated by loss of hearing'. By the aid of a trum- 
pet he can yet distinguish some familiar voices ; but even this slight 
communication with the external world is rapidly failing him. 

Though prevented by this double deprivation from repairing by 
study the defects of a very imperfect school education, he has been 
able to acquire large and varied information by intercourse with 
intelliaent persons, while such intercourse was still possible, and 
by the exercise of vigorous powers of refieclion. No one know- 
ing the facts, and reading the vivid and picturesque bits of de- 
scription in his writings, can fail to be struck with the keenness 
of his perceptive faculties, before clouded by what he pathetically 
calls " the double night" of darkness and silence. 

For the purposes of communication, he has invented and con- 
structed with his own hands a writing-machine, by the aid of 
which he expresses himself with considerable facility. 

Some of Mr. Heady's poems have appeared in the Louisville 
Journal, to whose readers he was known as " The Blind Bard of 
Kentucky;" others in the Episcojml Methodist and the New Ec- 
lectic dlajazine of Baltimore, and Avere warmly praised by com- 
petent critics, some of whom had no knowledge of the fact that 
they were the productions of a blind man. The best of these 
poems are included in the present volume, the far greater part of 
which, however, has never before been published. 

Besides his poems, Mr. Heady has written a juvenile History 
of WasJiingion, and has ready for the press a Life of Columbus 
*'of higher pretensions." He is also engaged upon other works. 

H. C. T., Jr. 



THE DOUBLE NIGHT. 



TO THE SHADES OF MILTON AND BEETHOVEN. 



"Silence and Darkness, solemn sisters, twins 
From ancient Night, who nursed the tender thought 
To reason, and on reason build resolve — 
That column of true majesty in man — 
Assist me, — I will thank you in the grave." 

—Night Thoughts. 

DARKNESS. 




0, bring the harp that once with dirges thrilled, 
But now hangs hushed in leaden slumbers. 
Save when the faltering hand untimely chilled 
Steals o'er its chords in broken numbers. 
It hangs in halls where shades of sorrow dwell, 
Where echoless Silence tolls the passing bell, 
Where shadowless Darkness weaves the shrouding spell 

Of parting joys and parting years. 
Go, bring it me, sweet friend, and ere we part, 
A lay I'll frame, so sad, 'twill wring thy heart 
Of all its pity, all its tears. 

0) 



SEEN A^D HEARD. 

As ^tful shadows round me gather fast, 

And\solemn watch my thoughts are holding. 
Comes Memory, Panoramist of the Past, 

The rising morn of life unfolding. 
Now fade from view all living toil and strife ; 
Time past is now my present ; death, my life ; — 

All that exists is obsolete ; 
While o'er my soul there steals the pensive glow 
Of sainted joys that young years only know. 
And past scenes, looming dimly, rise and throw 

Their lengthening shadows at my feet. 

I sec a morn, domed in by pictured skies; 

The dew is on its budding pleasures. 
The gladsome early sunlight on it lies. 
And to it from this dark my pent soul flies, 

As misers nightly to their treasures. 
And, as I look, I see a glittering train, 
In airy throng, across the dream-lit plain. 

Come dancing, dancing from the tomb ; 
Flitting in phantom silence on my sight ; — 
In silence, yet all beautiful and bright — 

The ghosts of joy, and hope, and bloom. 
But passed me by ; their lines of fading light 
Tell of decay, of youth's and beauty's blight ; 
Then, like spent meteors shimmering through the night, 

The vision melts in closing gloom. 



THE DOUBLE NKJllT. 

Another day, in sable vesture clad, 

All drear with new-blown pleasures blighted, 

Comes blindly groping through the twilight sad, 
As one in moonless mists benighted. 

! Day unhappy ! could oblivion roll 

Its slumberous billows o'er my shrinking sou\ 

Thee scarce I could, e'en then, forget: 
A life, bereft of light, no memory needs 
To tell of night that ne'er to morning leads, 
Of day that is forever set. 

From yonder sky the noon ward sun was torn, 

Ere day-dawn's rosy hues had banished ; 
A starless midnight blotted out the morn, 

Ere childhood's dewy joys had vanished. 
No slow-paced twilight ushered in the night; 
A spangled web. the Heavens were swept from sight 

The full moon fled and never waned ; 
And all of Earth that's beautiful and fair. 
Became as shadows in the empty air — 

A boundless, blackened blank remained! 

1 heard the gates of night, with sullen jar. 

Close on the cheerful day forever ; 
Hope from my sky sank like the evening star, 
Which finds in darkness, zenith never ; 



10 SEEN AND IlEAIli). 

For scarce she knew, blithe olTsprlng of the day, 
How there td shine, where night held boundless sway; 

And shapes of beauty, grace and bloom, 
And fair-formed joys that once around me danced, 
Bewildered grew, where sunbeam never glanced, . 

And lost their way in that wide gloom. 

Pensylla, o'er me many sunless years 

Have flown, since last the beam of heaven. 
The soft ascent of morn through smiles and tears, 

The sweet descent of dreamy even, — ■ 
Or sight of wood and fields in green arrayed, 
Vernal resplendence, or autumnal shade, 

Or Winter's gloom, or Summer's blaze ; 
Bird, beast, or works that trophy man's abode, 
Or he divine, the image of his Crod, 

Met my rapt gaze. 

Look, gentle guide ! Thou see'st the imperial sun 

Forth sending far his ambient glory, 
O'er laughing fields and frowning highlands dun. 

O'er glancing streams and woodlands hoary. 
In orient clouds he steeps his amber hair ; 
With beams far slanting through the flaming air. 
Bids Earth, with all her hymning sound, declare 

The praise of everlasting light. 



THE DOUBLE NIGHT. 11 

On my bared head I felt his pitying ray ; 
He loves to shine on my benighted way ; 
But ah, Pensylla! he brings to me no day — 
Nor yet his setting, deeper night. 

Prime gift of God, that veil'st His sovereign throne, 

And dost of Him in sense remind mc, 
Blest light of Heaven, -why hast thou from me flown? 

To these sad shades, why hast resigned me ? 
On pinions of surpassing beauty borne, 
When Nature hails the glad advance of morn. 

In thine unsullied loveliness 
Thou com'st ; but to my darkened eyes in vain ; — 
My night, e'en in the noon of thy domain, 
Yields not to thee, since joy of thine again 

Can ne'er my daylcss being bless. 



SILENCE 



NEXT, Silence, fit companion of the Night, 
In drearier depths my being steeping. 
Like the felt presence of an unseen sprite, 

With muffled tread, comes creeping, creeping. 
Before me close her smothering curtain swings, 
And o'er my life a shadeless shadow flings ; 



12 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Sinking with pitiless weight_, and slow, 
To shroud the last sweet glimpse of Earth and 3Ian, 
And set my limits to the narrow span 

Of but an arm's lenaith here below. 



whither shall I fly, this stroke to shun? 
Where turn me, this side death and heaven? 

Almost I would my course on earth were run, 
And all to Night and Silence given ! 

1 turn to man : can he but with me mourn ? 
Alike we're helpless, and, as bubbles borne. 

We to a common haven float. 
To Him, th' All-seeing and All-hearing One, 
Behold, I turn ! IMore hid than He there's none, 

More silent none, none more remote ! 

Alas, Pensylla, stay that pious tear ! 

Now nearer come, I fain thy voice would hear; — 

Like music when the soul is dreaming, 
Like music dropping from a far-off sphere. 
Hoard by the good, when life's end draweth near, 

It faintly comes, a spirit seeming. 
The sounds at once entranced me, ear and soul: 
The voice of winds and waves, the thunder's roll, 

The steed's proud neigh, and lamb's meek plaint. 



THE DOUBLE NIGHT. j 

The bum of bees, and vesper bymn of birds, 
The rural harmony of flocks and herds. 
The song of joy, or praise, and man's sweet words — * 
Come to me fainter — yet more faint. 

Was my poor soul to God's great works so dull, 

That they from her must hide forever ? 
Earth too replete with joy, too beautiful, 

For me, ingrate, that we must sever? 
For by sweet-scented airs that round me blow, 
By transient showers, the sun's impassioned glow. 
And smell of woods and fields, alone I know 

Of Spring's approach, and Summer's bloom ; 
And by the pure air, void of odors sweet. 
By noontide beams, low slanting, without heat, 
By rude winds, cumbering snows, and hazardous sleet, - 

Of Autumn's blight, and Winter's gloom. 

As at the entrance of an untrod cave, 

I shrink — so hushed the shades, and sombre. 

This death of sense makes life a breathing grave, 
A vital death, a waking slumber I 



Note— 1808.— 

And now, save man's sweet words, 'tis silence, all. 
2 



14 SEEN AND HEARD. 

'Tis as the light itself of God were fled — 
So dark is all around, so still, so dead ; 

Nor hope of change, one ray I find! 
Yet must submit. Though fled fore'er the light. 
Though utter silence bring me double night, 

Though to my insulated mind, 
Knowledge her richest pages ne'er unfold, 
And " human face divine" I ne'er behold — 

Yet must submit, must be resigned ! 



TO THE SHADES. 



TO thee, blind Milton, solemn son of night, 
Great exile once from day's dominion bright, 
Whose genius, steeped In truth and glory, 
Like some wide orb of new-created light, 
Rose on the world, bewildering mortals' sight, — 

I'll sing, till earth's young hills grow hoary ! 
For what of joy I've found in life's dark way, 
And what of excellence have reached I may. 
Much, much is due thy wondrous rhyme, 



THE DOUBLE NIGHT. 15 

Which sang the triumphs of Eternal Truth, 
Revealed blest glimpses of immortal youth, 

Of Heaven, e'er angels sang of Time; 
Of light, that o'er the embryon tumult broke, 
Of earth, when all the stars symphonious woke, — • 
Till man, as if from Heaven a seraph spoke, 

Entranced, hung on thy strains sublime. 

Day closes on the earth his one bright eye, 

That Night, her starry lids unsealing, 
May ope her thousand in a loftier sky, 

God's higher mysteries revealing. 
So, when thy day from thee its light withdrew, 
And o'er thee night its rueful shadows threw. 

And "from the cheerful ways of men" 
Thy steps cut off, thy mind, thick set with eyes. 
As night with stars, piercing thy shrouded skies. 

And proving most illumined then, 
When darkest seeming, soared on cherub wings — 
Those star-eyed wings — higher than ever springs 
The beam of day, to see, and tell of things 

Invisible to mortal ken. 

O'er earth thy numbers shall not cease to roll 
Till man to live, who to them hearkened; 

Thy fame, no less immortal than thy soul. 
Shall shine when yon proud sun is darkened. 



16 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Thee, now, mcthinks, 1 see, bard divine ! 
There ripen no fair joys that are not thine. 
And God's full love is pleased on thee to shine. 

Still by the heavenly Muses fired. 
And starred among the angelic minstrel band, 
The sacred lyre thou sway'st with sovereign hand, 
"While seraphs, in awed rapture, round thee stand, 

As one by God himself inspired. 

Sublime Beethoven, wizard-king of sound, 

Once exiled from thy realm, yet not discrowned, — 

Assist me ; since my spirit, thrilling 
With thy surpassing strains, is mute, spell-bound; 
For through the hush of years they still resound^ 

With music weird my spent ear filling. 
When Silence clasped thee in her dismal spell, 
And earth-born Music sang her sad farewell. 

Thy mighty genius, as in scorn. 
Arose, in silent majesty to«dwell, 
Where from symphonic spheres thou heardst to swell, 

As on celestial breezes borne, 
Sounds, scarce by angels heard, e'en in their dreams; 
Which, at thy bidding, wrought a thousand themes. 
And pouring down in rich, pellucid streams. 

Filled organ grand, and resonant horn; 
With rarest sweetness touched each dulcet string, 



THE DOUBLE XIGIIT. 17 

Made martial bu";le and bold clarion rinjr, 

Soft flute provoked, like the lone bird of Springs 

To warble lays of love forlorn ; 
Woke shrilly reed to many a pastoral note, 
Thrilled witching lyre, and lips melodious smote, — 
Till earth, in tuneful ether, seemed to float. 

As when first sang the stars of morn ! 
Till wondering angels were entranced to chime. 
With harp and choral tongue, thy strains sublime, 
And bear thy soul beyond the reach of time, 

Heaven's halls harmonious to adorn. 

Ah, me! could I, with ken angelic, scan 
Celestial glories, hid from mortal man, 

I'd deem this night a day supernal ! 
Could music, borne from some far singing sphere, 
Float sweetly down, and thrill my stricken ear, 

I'd pray this hush might be eternal ! 



18 SEEN AND HEARD. 



RESIGNATION, 



PENSYLLA, look ! With tremulous points of fire. 
The sun, red-sinking, lights yon distant spire; 

O'er leafy hill and blossoming meadows. 
Spreads wide and level his departing beams. 
Then sinks to rest, as one sure of sweet dreams^ 

'Mid pillowing clouds and curtaining shadows. 
Night draws her lucid shade o'er sky and earth ; 
Solemn and bright. Heaven's starry eyes look forth ; 
The evening hymn of praise and song of mirth 

Rise gratefully from man's abode. 
O Night ! I love her sombre majesty ! 
'Tis sweet, her double solitude, to me ! 
Pensylla, leave me now ! Alone I'd be 

AVith Darkness, Silence, and my God! 

Thou, whose shadow is but light's excess, 
The echo of whose voice but silentness. 

Whose light and music, half expended, 
Would flood, dissolve the sphery frame; 'twixt whom 
And man no endless night can throw its gloom, 

Till long Eternity is ended — 
AVhich ne'er shall end — to Thee, my trust, I turn ! 



THE DOUBLI] NIGHT. 19 

To one, for whom in vain thy hvnips now burn, 
A hearing deign ; nor from Thy footstool spurn 

The prayer of an imprisoned mind. 
Father, Thy sun is set; night veils the world, 
That orbs more beauteous be to man unfurled. 

Then, in my Night, let me but find 
New realms, where thought and fancy may rejoice ; 
Let its long silence ne'er displace Thy voice 
From whispering hope and peace, and 'twere my choice 

To be thus smitten deaf and blind ! 
Fill me with light and music from above, 
And so inspire with truth, faith, courage, love, 
That Thou and man my work can well approve, — • 

Father, to all, I'm then resigned! 

Harp of the mournful voice, now fare thee well! 
My sad song ended, ended is thy spell. 

Perchance thine echoes, memory haunting, 
May oft awaken, shadowing forth the swell 
Of long-sung monody, and long-tolled knell, 

Voices o'er the dead past, dirges chanting : 
But for me, ever hang in Sorrow's hall! 
Bid Night and Silence spread oblivion's pall 
O'er earthly-blooming joys, that seared must fall. 

And leave the stricken soul to weep : — 
Ever, till this devoted head be hoar, 



20 SEEN AND HEARD. 

And the swart angel whispering at the door ; 
When I thy slumbers may disturb once more, 

Ere double night bring double sleep. 
Till then, I sing in happier, bolder strain: 
What's lost to me is Grod's ; what's left, for pain 
Or joy, still His : and endless day, His reign : 

And reckoning of my Night He'll keep ! 

1853, 1868. 





YOONEMSKOTA.* 



AN INDIAN IDYLL. 



PROLOGUE 




N the Hunter's Paradise — 
Once a dark and bloody ground, 
Land of green Kentucky now, 
And her sister land that lies 
Just beyond La Belle Riviere, 
Else, Ohio— "Eagle River;"—! 
E'en in green Kentucky, then. 
And Ohio, rivals once 
In the charms and ways of life, 
Dearest to the Indian heart, 
Hunting, fishing, war and love — 
Happened what I mean to tell you. 



* This name is compounded from tlie two Shawnee words— yoonemake 
(thunder), and skoate (fire)— Thunder-and-Fire. 

t So named by the Shawnee?. 

(21) 



22 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Happened once upon a time, 
In the leafy years of hills, 
In the flowery years of •woods, 
In the singing years of streams, 
When our grandsires still were young. 
Younger still this mighty nation ; 
Ere the ancient brotherhood 
Of the oaks and pines sank down. 
Under white man's levelling axe ; 
Ere the infant sisterhood 
Of the Western States rose up 
Under white man's levelling rifle 

Happened to a Shawnee brave — 
Yoonemskota was his name — 
As the wild hunt he pursued 
In the hunter's paradise, 
Far from kindred, far from home. 
From Scioto's Chilicothe — • 
Toicn-upon-tlie- Leaning -Bank — 
Birthplace of the greatest man. 
Save the Father of our land, 
All this Western World can boast, — 
Greatest, noblest of his race. 
The redoubtable Tecumseh. 



YOOXEMSKOTA. 23 

Would Tecumseh were my theme ! 
Ay, I'd set tlie world aflame ! 
Set the dreamers all astare ! 
Set the rhymers all agog ! 
Set my rhyme above the rhyme 
Of the rarest rhymer ringing ! 
But, as Yoonemskota lived 
Earlier, by a score of years, 
And the Red man ever yields 
Preference to superior age, 
With like reverence we must first 
Sing the name of Yoonemskota. 

But should days like these be ours — 
Days of music in all things — 
Music in the world that plays, 
Music in the world that plods. 
Music in the world that plans, — 
Son and Daughter of the pale face, 
Then Tecumseh be my theme ! . 
Then I'll set the world aflame ! 
Set the dreamers all astare ! 
Set the rhymers all agog ! 
Set my rhyme above the rhyme 
Of the rarest rhymer ringing. 



24 SEEN AND HEARD. 



MIST AND MOONSHINE. 



THE bright-eyed day is fled, 
With wild hunt, cloud, and sunshine; 
The dark-eyed night is come. 
With wild dream, mist, and moonshine. 
The mist is on the hill, 
The mist is on the valley. 
The mist is on the swamp, 
The mist is on the river. 
And through the mist, the moon, 
With purblind eye, looks dimly ; 
More dimly through the woods, 
She shoots a ghostly glimmer ; 
She glimmers fainter still 
Into the bark-built wigwam. 
Where the Red hunter lies. 
And hunts on in his slumbers. 

Like whirlpools in the sky, 
On high winds clouds go whirling, 
Low, over the misty hills, 
Their flitting shadows follow ; 
And where their thin, gray skirts 
Are rent and torn in tatters. 
They show the blue, and stars 



YOONEMSKOTA. 

Upon the blue are shining ; 
Also, where is no mist, 
They shine in the blue water. 

The shag-maned bison-bull 
Is on the blue-grass lying, 
And in his bushy lair, 
The antlered red elk sleeping. 
The bear, paw after paw. 
Is climbing to his hollow. 
High up the sycamore-shell. 
Among the bare white branches. 
Snug in his leaf-built lodge. 
Nestles the grizzled squirrel, 
Pillowed upon his paws, 
With bushy tail for cover. 
The panther, sly and sleek. 
Is crouching in his dingle. 
Lapping, with savage joy, 
The warm blood of his victim. 
The gray wolf, gaunt and grim, 
Goes trotting through the shadows, — 
A stag, a bound, a howl, — 
And there's a chase in the forest. 

Vultures, that had their gorge 
At sunset on the war-plain, 



26 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Now towards their craggy nests. 
Their sluggish wings are turning. 
The owl, with hootings drear, 
Provokes the echoes sorely, 
But silent the eagle screams. 
Until the rising morning. 

The Foe is coming on. 
This side great Eagle Kiver, 
Over the blue-grass glades, 
And through the vista'd forests 
Of the dark and bloody ground. 
The paradise of hunters ; 
Dodging from bush to bush, 
Where shines the moon uumisted. 
And on the open glade ; 
But where the mist is thickest, 
And baffles the tell-tale light. 
He keeps unswerving onward. 
Nor bends he then the grass, 
Nor snaps the twigs beneath him. 
Nor stirs the leaves^ scarce more 
Than were he but a shadow, — 
So deathly still his tread ; 
Save when his war path leads him 
Along the tumbling stream, 



YOONEMSKOTA. 

The roaring of whose waters 
May drown the heaviest tread, 
Then speeds he boldly forward, 
With free and mighty strides. 

There's vengeance in his purpose, 
Else he were not so swift, 
His eagerness so wolf-like, 
So panther-like his step. 
There's blood to drink before him — 
He snuff's it in the air — 
To reach the heart that holds it, 
He'd dog the weary moon 
Into the glaring sunlight, 
And dog the weary sun 
Into the glimmering moonlight; 
Nor eat, nor drink, nor sleep. 
Till he had tasted vengeance. 

The coming Foe is here — 
Ten stalwart Huron warriors — 
3Iarching in Indian file. 
All still as their own shadows. 
When shadows they needs must cast. 
They've gained the perilous border 
Of this broad upland glade, 
So full of perilous moonlight, 



28 SEEN AND HEARD. 

That they slink suddenly back, 
A moment to reconnoitre, 
From out the safer shades, 
Ere they dare venture farther. 
And well they may, for there, 
Besides the perilous moonlight^ 
They spy at last what they, 
From early dawn till midnight. 
Have scoured the wilds to find ;- 
Beneath a lofty poplar. 
The only tree of the glade, 
They spy it — a lonely wigwam. 
The bark built hunting-lodge 
Of Shawnee Yoonemskota. 



THE HUNTING-LODGE. 



rriHE feet of the Dead, now by midnight untethcred, 
-L Are heard on the Earth, like the far winds of autumn, 
When silently stealing around the horizon ; 
But soundless as death come the feet of the livinjr. 
Alone in his lodge the Red hunter is sleeping. 
His bear skin for bod, and for pillow his quiver. 



YOOXKMSKOTA, 29 

His scalp-knife and hatchet laid naked beside him, 
And scattered around him the trophies of hunting. 

Though roamed he the forest from sunrise to sunset, 
And weary the sinewy limbs that have borne him, 
■ The Spirit of Dreaming, with throngs of wild fancies. 
Is busily haunting the dcptlis of his slumbers. 

He dreams of the wild liunt, of fishing and dancing — 
Of dancing, by moonlight, around the red death-stake, 
Which, flaming and flaring far through the dark forest^ 
Alarms the gaunt wolf on his nightly maraudings. 
He dreams of the roe-buck that fell by his arrow. 
The big bison-bull that he chased in, the vallej-, 
The black bear he hugged with and stabbed on the L ill-side, 
The rattlesnake clubbed in the flame-haunted morass. 

He dreams of the lodge, where the council-fire blazes. 
Where chiefs are debating the doom of the captive. 
Where warriors arc gathered and painted for battle, 
And smoking from war-pipes confusion to foemen. 
He dreams of the pale face, the scourge of his people, 
And fiercely he grapples the death-steel beside him ; 
He shouts his shrill war-whoop, the death knell to foemen, 
With life blood of foemen, his war-path he reddens. 

Awake, Yoonemskota ! the foe is upon thee ! 
Around thy lone lodge, like a panther, he's creeping. 



30 SEEN AND HEARD. 

" "What noise tlid I hear?" says the hunter^ still dreaming. 
" 'Twas only the panther, with soft steps so stealthy ; 
Perhaps, in his dingle, a red deer is bleeding, 
And over Lis victim he's purring in triumph." 

No, no, Yoonemslvotal It is not the panther^ 
AVith soft steps so stealthy. Thy foe is upon thee ! 
As still as a snake, to thy throat he is crawling : 
Already his hand has uplifted the bear skin, 
That keeps out the moonshine and wind from thy dwelling. 

" I hear it again ! " says the slumbering hunter. 
The dry leaves disturbed by the tread of the night wind, 
Or is it the tread of a ghost on the stillness ? " 

no, Yoonemskota I No wind is so noiseless. 
And scarcely more silent the Spirit of Stillness. 
Thy bow and thy arrow, thy scalp-knife and hatchet, 
Are whetted and feathered and sinewed for battle ;* 
And stronger thy arm, and thy spirit the blither, 
AVhen foemen close round thee, and friends are far distant. 
Thy foe is upon thee! Awake, Yoonemskota! 

The hunter springs up ; see him grasp for his weapons ! 
No weapons are there, for the foe has been cunning, 
lie's captured and tethered and dragged from his wigwam. 
Alas, Yoonemskota, thy dreams have betrayed thee ! 



* A poetical license. By the middle of the last century, a few years before 
the time of our story, the use of firearms had grown to be all but universal 
iimong the Indian tribes east of the Mississippi. 



YOONEMSKOTA 31 

And .wliy have tlicy captured the brave Yooncniskota ? 
Why stolen upon him, when friends were far distant? 
Why watcli him askance, as they would a wild panther. 
And shrink from tlic fire in his fierce eye with trembling? 
The hatchet he wields is the highest in battle, 
And truest the arrow that comes from his ambush ; 
And red is his hand with the blood of their kindred. 
And black are his skirts with the scalps of their warriors. 



OVER THE RIVER. 



THEY stalk, like spectres, through the dark wood 
Their light feet scarce disturb the dead leaves, 
Or vex the drowsy car of grim night. 
The mist is thinner on the hill-tops, 
But hides the valleys, and the moonshine, 
.Trembling with mystery, sleep and wild dreams, 
Is glistening on the mist, like hoar-frost. 

Thin, ghostly shadows dog their footsteps, 
Glide to and fro upon the moonbeams. 
And dodge and skip among the green boughs. 
No sound of life breaks on the dead hush, 
Save when the ambushed panther's shrill cry 



32 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Rings from the canc-brakc, like a deatli-shriek. 
Or distant howling of the gaunt wolves 
Is heard, as over the bleeding elk-stag 
They snap and snarl, and lick their red chaps. 

Over their path the arrow-shaped pine 
Nods its plumed crest and waves its green hair; 
The sycamore upheaves its huge girth, 
And tosses, far and wide, its white arms; 
The lance-like poplar, ash and red-oak 
Stand on the hills, like giant night-guards. 

They file along the gloom of deep delves ; 
Through brake and thicket crawl, like black-snakes ; 
For miles, wade up and down the small stream, 
That none may follow on their war-path ; 
Scale the rude crag, and drive the war-bird, 
Wondering and screaming, from his strong nest. 

At last they gain the hill-top, far seen, 
Whence they can spy where rolls a broad stream. 
Too proud to murmur, through the green wilds, 
Traced by a winding ridge of white mist. 
Which in the moonlight gleams like snow-hills. 
Ohio — Eagle River — rolls there. 
Upon whose banks a thousand rude huts, 
From brake and forest, rise like ant-hills, 
Where dwells the monarch of the grass plain, 



YOONEMSKOTA. 33 

The wary roamer of the wild wood, 
Bold hunter of the bison and elk-stag, 
The fell foe of the bearded pale face. 

The warriors file across the low plain ; 
Towering above them, like a tall pine. 
Brave Yoonemskota walks with proud step 
Though guarded strongly, and with bound hands. 
His bright plumes quiver in the night breeze ; 
A fierce light blazes in his dark eye, 
A scornful smile lurks round his stern lips, 
Although, before another sun sets, 
Ilis foes, with hatchet, scourge, and war-club, 
May beat him through the gauntlet's dread length, 
Or drive him, roasting, round the red stake. 
With live coals poured upon his scalped head. 

They've gained the margin of the broad strcani, 
Halting a moment upon the stcop bank. 
A long, low whistle cleaves the still air, 
So low that quick- cared echoes sleep on. 
And only dream of muffled night winds. 
An answering whistle from an unseen, 
Across the mist-hid river stealsj like 
The wandering phantom of a lost sound ; 
For many braves are there, on still watch. 



4- SCEX A1\D HEARD. 

To row the captive over. Ere long, 

The light canoes glide from the thick fog 

Into the shadow of the steep bank, 

With spectral silentncss, their bright oars. 

Gleaming from far, like streams of wild-fire. 

Impart no sound, but silence timed out. 

That fills the ear with music, death-like. 

They pass no words, not even a mute sign ; 
Ijut bind their captive in a light boat. 
And glide again into the thick fog, 
Through which the moon looks down with dull eye. 
Nor in the water kens her pale charms. 
Their own bank looms against the night sky, 
Bordered with woods, as with a green fringe. 
They shoot with silent swiftness, ghost-like, 
Into the frowning shadow, tie fast 
Their bark -boats to the hanging gnarled roots, — 
And far from kindred, far on strange ground, 
Brave Yoonemskota walks with fierce foes. 



-~AVV^05| 



YOONEMSKOTA. 



SUNRISE. 



THE eagle from liis crag. 
Before the stars cease twinkling. 
Screaming and wheeling, soars 
Above the storm-cloud's pathway, 
To watch, adown the East, 
The young Day's first bright wakening. 
The lone pine, on the top 
Of yonder far blue mountain. 
Is next to spy the dawn, 
And tell the sifjrns of morning. 
Sullenly, up the hill, 
The winding mist is climbing. 
Where, huddled on the top, 
The wind rends it in fragments 
Which sail across the sky, 
Like flocks of white swans flying. 
And now the sun shines red 
On mountain, wood, and river; 
And from his flaming eye 
The clouds, like gleaming armies, 
In wide-spread, loose array. 
And crimson column broken, 
Eoll, vanquished, westward, there 



36 SEEN AND HEARD. 

To lurk in airy ambush, 
Till their bright victor pitch 
His tent behind the mountains, 
When day, in turn, will rise 
And triumph over his setting. 

The black bear, from his lodge 
Ogles the rising morning. 
Then rubbing, with hairy paws, 
His eyes, he slides down slowly, 
And slowly takes him ofT, 
To gather, for his breakfast, 
Wild fruits, or roots, or fish, — 
Or, may be, some wild honey. 
The squirrel^ with bushy tail 
Curled over his back so grandly, 
Barks at the sun-blind owl. 
With tiny indignation, 
As too near his own tree 
The day-caught laggard perches. 
Quietly, a moment, sits 
A panther on his haunches, 
Then screaming, like a child, 
Leaps up into the tree-tops, 
Chasing, in savage sport. 
Wild-cat, raccoon, and squirrel. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 37 

Ere dawn, the red elk's bones 
Lay scattered, white and fleshless, 
And licking their chaps, the wolves 
Slink now to brake and dingle. 

The roe-buck, from his lair, 
Uprears his antlered glory ; 
Eastward and westward turns 
His bright eyes, mutely thanking, 
Then, driving the dew before 
Him, ambles to his pasture. 
The bison herds upheave 
Their huge bulks from the green sward, 
Shake from their shaggy manes 
The dew^ and darkly huddling. 
Roll bellowing over the plain, 
Like shadows of clouds at noon-day. 
To graze till sunset, round 
The hunter-haunted salt-lick. 

The blue smoke upward curls. 
Till, widening in the thin air 
Its long and slender shaft 
Points, like a feathered arrow, 
Down to the wigwam, where. 
On bison-rug and bear-skin. 
The painted brave has lain 



38 SEEN AND HEARD. 

In battle-dreaming slumber. 

The Red man eastward looks, 
Watching upon the mountains. 
At first he sees the gray, 
And then the deep vermilion, 
Washing in blood the hills, 
That tell the young day's coming. 

To him, Wahcondah's eye 
Looks from the sun in brightness ; 
His solemn whisper breathes 
The tuneful winds of morning ; 
His voice of anger waits 
The tempest-blast of midnight ; 
Earth trembles, as he walks 
In thunder over the mountains, — 
His mighty foot-prints left 
In valley, lake, and river. 

The red man bows in awe — 
His great heart mutely worships ; — 
" His will be done ! " he says — 
The red man always says it — 
" Even the Great Spirit's will. 
The will of great Wahcondah ! " 



YOONEMSKOTA. 39 

THE COUNCIL-LODGE. 



"OUT where's Yoonemskota, the proud and the daring, 
-L' The foremost in council, the foremost in battle? 
Who plays, like a buck, when the peace pipe is smoking, 
Who prowls, like a panther, when warfare is raging ; 
Whose hatchet is ever the highest in battle, 
Whose arrow the truest in hunt or still ambush ; 
Whose war-path the reddest, and peace-path the whitest. 
Whose war-song the fiercest, and love-song the gentlest. 

The Shawanee maiden, with hair black as midnight,* 
And eyes like a young doe, as oft look behind her. 
As homeward she hies, with her pet fawn beside her, 
From gathering wild flowers on the azure-bound prairie, 
To watch Yoonemskota, the proud and the daring. 
As through the wild woods with large strides he goes stalking, 
To hug wiih the black bear, or chase the big bison, 
Or challenge the panther to leap from his tree-top ; 
Or, haply, all brave with his war-paint and plumage. 
And bristling with weapons, abroad on his war-path. 

Then, turned again homeward, the maiden goes sighing: 
"Ah, happy the one who shall dwell in the wigwam, 



* This name, though commonly spelled (S/witHee, is often spelled Shaica- 
nee, and, not unfrequently, Shaicanocse. 



40 SEEN AND HEARD, 

And dwell in the heart of the brave Yoonemskota ! 
To keep his fire burning, and smoking his kettle 
With maize of her tending, or game of his hunting ; 
To quill his gay moccasin, wampum his war-belt, 
And welcome him home from the chase or red war-path, 
With good cheer and fire-light, and smoke of siamo.^^ 

The council-fire burns in the lodge of the village, 
And round it, on bear-skins, the warriors are sitting ; 
They hold a stern silence, for dark thoughts are brewing; — 
No wrangling is there, like the pale face, in big talk ; 
Naught passes their lips, but the smoke of tobacco — 
The smoke of siamo from war-pipes up-curling. 

And in their grim midst, sits a Shawanee captive — 
Sits smoking his war-pipe m silent defiance, 
Sent up in the dark-rolling clouds round his scalp-lock — 
His scalp-lock, all brave with the plumes of the eagle. 
He looks through the door-way, he looks not around him — 
His calm eye is fixed on the blue sky before him. 
And there's Yoonemskota, the proud and the daring ; — 
To-night he must burn, or make peace with his captors. 

They hold a stern silence, and watch the pine's shadow, 
That sluggishly creeps toward the council-house door- way ; 
They watch the red sun, as he climbs the steep heavens. 
Till, from the sky's centre, he hangs without motion. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 41 

Till stands without motion the slow-creeping shadow, 
And, dial-like, points to the time when their chieftain. 
The stern Ilworaminta, shall open the council : 
And thus the oration of stern Hworaminta.* 



SPEECH OF HWORAMINTA. 



I 



^^ TT was night. Yoonemskota 
Lay asleep in his wigwam, 



Far away from his border — 
Far away from our border, 
In the woods of Ken'tuck'ee — 
Land of Ground-dark-and-bloody. 
Close at hand lay his weapons, 
All unsheathed as for battle ; 
But our braves stole upon him — 
Round his lodge stole like panthers; 
Nor awoke Yoonemskota, 
For his sleep was the slumber 
Of the soul that is roaming 
Far away from its dwelling. 
Sly as snakes, crept our warriors 



' The W^yandot for gun. 
4* 



42 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Through the door of his wigwam ; 
Heard the Dream-Spirit mock him — 
Heard him talk in his slumbers ; 
From him took all his weapons, 
And his soul was belated. 
He was strong and resisted, 
But our braves were too many ; 
And at last overpowered him, 
Bound him fast, and in triumph 
Dragged him forth from his dwelling, 
As they would drowsy Mugicali^ 
From his den in the hill-side. 

' ' Warriors, listen ! 
Deadliest foe of the Huron 
Is the great chief, our captive — 
Shawanee Yoonemskota ; — 
E.ed his hands, red his war-path, 
With the blood of our people ! 

Listen ! That blood cries for vengeance ! 
Cries from bare wastes that once were 
Fruitful fields round our dwellings — 
Fruitful, till fierce Yoonemskota, 
Like a storm, fell upon them, 
And our wives and our children 

*The Shawanee for hear. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 43 

Pine for bread in the winter ! 
Cries from black heaps that once were 
Pleasant camps in the forest, 
Pleasant towns by the river — 
Pleasant, till fierce Yoonemskota 
Threw the fire-brand among them ! 
Cries from war-plain and ambush, 
Where in blood sleep our proudest — 
Proudest, till proud Yoonemskota 
Laid them low in his fierceness ! 



" Shall that cry now be answered ? 
Shall we now render vengeance ? 
"Warriors, listen ! Be silent, 
Till the chief Yoonemskota 
To our words shall make answer : 
He has heard llworaminta." 

But pr jud Yoonemskota sits smoking in silence ; 

He turns not his eyes from the blue sky before him, — 

lie looks through the door-way, he looks not around him ;- 

Too proud, he, to answer — he smokes on in silence. 

And so smoke they all, for a time, in the council, 

With Indian decorum, awaiting his answer; 

No wrangling is there, like the palj face in big talk — 



44 ' SEEN AND HEARD. 

Naught passing their lips but the smoke of tobacco — 
The smoke of siamo from war-pipes up curling — 
Till Black-Wolf stands up, and with red-rolling eye-balls, 
Askance on the captive, begins his oration. 



SPEECH OF BLACK-WOLF. 



" IIT^^I^IORS, and Heads of our Totems, 
' » Scarce twenty moons have whitened 
The gray rock on yonder mountain, 
Since the Wyandots and Shawnees 
Met on the dark and bloody ground. 
And had that terrible battle. 
Green grows the grass there now, 
From soil made fat with our blood, 
Which that day ran in rivers. 
But the hand of the frost was mighty then, 
And his breath had left the ambush thin, 
The long grass yellow and withered. 
The black blast howled through the naked woods, 
Filling them with noises, like death-sounds; 
And the hills were covered with snow. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 45 

As if a white sky had fallen upon them. 

Struck by an arrow, the truest in battle, 

Wounded, I lay among the bushes. 

Struck down by a hatchet, the highest in battle, 

Near me, my aged father fell, 

Like the hoary oak of the mountain 

Struck down by the hand of the tempest, 

And I, without strength to save ! 

My three brothers, shoulder to shoulder. 

Strove hard to save his gray scalp ; 

But they, too, fell, one after one. 

Across his body, cut down like saplings; 

The warm life stream from four kindred hearts 

Keddening and melting the trodden snow : 

A hatchet, the highest in battle. 

Went down to the helve in their skulls. 

And drank its glut of vengeance — 

And I without strength to avence I 

I saw the gray scalp of my father, 
And the black scalps of my brothers, 
Hang reeking from the war-belt 
Of the terrible Yoouemskota — 
And I, without strength to avenge ! 
I could tear out his heart 
And drink his life-blood, the only draught 
That can appease my thirst for vengeance." 



46 SEEN AND HEARD. 

'' Down, Black-Wolf ! " cries stern Hworaminta, their chief- 
tain, 
In tones like a far-reaching whisper of thunder. 
" Such howling befits not the council of warriors. 
Let warriors be silent and hear Yoonemskota." 

Still proud Yoonemskota sits smoking in silence ; 
lie turned not his eyes from the blue sky before him, — 
He looks through the door-way, he looks not around him; — • 
Too proud, he, to answer — he smokes on in silence. 
So smoke they all, for a time, in the council, 
With Indian decorum, awaiting his answer; 
No wrangling is there, like the pale face in big talk ; — 
Naught passes their lips but the smoke of tobacco — 
The smoke of siamo from war-pipes up-curling. 

The warrior sits mute — mute as hills without echoes 
To send back the voice of the far-whispered thunder ; 
Till noble Oheno, a warrior gigantic. 
Uplifting his plumed head high over the council, 
Lays by his long war-pipe, his bear-robe and weapons. 
That he may be free to harangue in the big talk. 
And thus, in a voice like the low, heavy mutter 
Of thunder at night, when it speaks to the mountains, 
Begins his oration — the noble Oheno. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 47 



SPEECH OF OHENO. 



ii TTTARRIORS, Yooncmskota is a great war-chief, 
' ' And red his hands with the blood of our best braves- 
Red, only, as beseems a war-chief. 
Is not Oheno's hand red ? 
Brave Hworaminta's hand red ? 
Red the hand of every brave here 
With best blood of the great Shawanee ? 

Though Yoonemslvota's tomahawk 
Be the highest and reddest on the war-plain. 
The scalps of women and babes and gray old men 
Have never hung reeking at his war-belt ; 
None but the scalps of braves, with armed hands, 
Have ever dried in the smoke of his wigwam. 
What brave in the lodge can say this 
For the honor of his own name? 

When the nations are smoking the war-pipe, 
Yoonemskota's name is on the war-plain, 
And red and smoking is his war-path. 
But Avhen the nations are smoking the peace-pipe, 
AVho sits at home in the door of his wigwam, 
Quiet as a tame bear ? Yooncmskota ! 
Who walks the peace-path with gray old men, 
Gentle as a young maiden ? Yooncmskota ! 



48 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Who skips, with children, upon the hill-tops, 
Playful as a young buck? Yoonemskota! — 
Yoonemskota, the Shawance war-chief! 

"Warriors, never since the rough old oaks 
Were young and smooth upon the hill-sides, 
Have the Wyandots and Shawanees seen 
Each other's faces for the war-paint ; 
Struck hands without the hatchet and war-club. 
Or sought each other but on the war-path.* 
This hatred was left us by our forefathers 
As a portion of our inheritance ; 
We have cherished it as our chief joy, 
Fed upon it as our choice food ; 

Till, thinned by the arrow and bullet, and hewn down 
By the hatchet, we are but the bare name. 
The noon-day shadow of what we once were. 
Behold the sad remnant^ brave Wyandots ! 
And behold ye, likewise, brave Shawanees! 
And let pity quench your fierce hatred ! 

Warriors, listen, and hear a strange thing ! 
Last night, chance led me across the war-plain 
Where the Shawanees and Wyandots met once — 

* Though applicable to many Indian triljes, this can hardly be said of the 
Wyandots and Shawanees; the former migrating to the Ohio Valley from 
beyond the Northern lakes, after the settlement of Canada by the French, 
and the Shawanees, at a still more recent ijeriod, from the shores of the 
Gulf of Mexico. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 49 

A spot the moon looks down upon with sad eye. 
Something that was not whirring night wind, 
Nor whirring night bird, stirred the still air. 
Then heard I the voice of those that were slain there 
Cry mournfully out from the green graves : 

' Bury the tomahawk ! Bury the tomahawk ! ' 
I heard also the voice of the Great Spirit, 
Dropping from the upper sky, saying: 
(And the old woods shook, though not a breeze blew,) 

* Oheno, stand thou there among the green mounds 
Till thou hast heard the words ! — words of Wahcondah ! 
I have spoken to the tribes of red men, 
Gently with my winged west-wind whisper, 
Bidding you come and smoke the peace-pipe 
Before me, as the sons of one sire : 
But to my gentle voice ye turned a deaf car. 
Then, with my voice of many-tongued thunders, 
I spoke, even till the proudest hills shook, — 
But, said ye, it is but the storm mumbling. 
To-morrow the Shawanee war-chief 
Shall sit in your council-lodge, captive. 
Offer him and his people the peace-pipe. 
And if its smoke thereof ascend to my nostrib, 
I will smile once more upon my red children. 
Let my words go unheeded, and the black night 
Of desolation shall thicken around you forever!' 



50. SEEN AND HEARD. 

Oheno has hearkened to Wahcon3ah : 
Will Yoonemskota hearken to Oheno ? 
Will ho not smoke with us the peace-pipe, 
And, in friendship, take the hand of Oheno? 
A hand it is that never knew failure, 
Whether for friend or foe. Let braves listen, 
And hear what answer Yoonemskota 
Shall give the counsel of Oheno." 

And now Yoonemskota quits smoking so proudly, 
Yet turns not his eyes from the blue sky before him ; 
Less stern is his brow, and his dark eye less burning, 
Less lofty his port, and he smokes not so proudly. 
For over his brow steal the shadows of memory. 
Like summer clouds shading the brow of a mountain ; 
And into his eye, like the fire gleams of sunrise. 
The light of the love that is shining through sorrow. 
Perhaps he's reminded of brothers now sleeping 
The sleep of the brave on the field of the triumph. 
Or does he remember his uesolate hamlets. 
Where sages oneo sat in the council-house door-way, 
Pieminding young warriors of Shawance glory ? 
Where raven-haired maidens once strung the bright wampum, 
And quilled the gay moccasin for their wild lovers ; 
Or, braiding their tresses, they hied forth to meet them. 
As homeward they filed from the hunt or red war-path : 



YOONEMSKOTA. 51 

Where mothers their little ones lulled, swinging, swinging 
In cradles suspended from forest-tree branches ; 
While sister whooped merrily up to it, singing — ■ 
" Swing, pretty one, swing ! Thy mother and sister 
Are caring for thee. Swing, pretty one, swing ! " ■■• 

Sweet scenes that the brand of the Wyandot blasted ! 
Sweet music the yell of the Wyandot silenced ! 
The shadows of memory arc gone, like the shadows' 
Of summer clouds, blown from the brow of a mountain : 
His brows again stern and his dark eye again burning, 
He turns not his eyes from the blue sky before him ; 
He looks through the door-way, he looks not around him; 
He makes them no answer, but smokes on in silence, 
And so smoke they all, for a time, in the council, 
AVith Indian decorum, awaiting his answer. 
No wrangling is there like the pale face in big talk ; 
Naught passing their lips but the smoke of tobacco — 
The smoke of siamo from war-pipes up-curling — ■ 
Till stern Hworaminta, with aspect less rigid, 
Again breaks his mind ; and with peace for its burden, 
This second oration of brave Hworaminta. 

* . — Swing, pretty one, swing. Schoolcraft, North American Indians. 



52 SEEN AND HEARD. 

SECOND SPEECH OF HWORAMINTA. 



'' TTTARRIORS, 

' ' Yo Lave heard what Ohcno 
Has (lechired in the council : 
It is good. Let us hearken 
To the words of Oheno. 

For unknown generations, 
Since the years lost to memory, 
Have the Shawnee and Huron* 
Been at strife with each other, 
And the war-pipe heen smoking — 
Smoking death to each other ; 
And the war-whoop been sounding- 
Sounding death to each other. 

Death ! Death ! 
We have fought with each other 
On the fair, open prairie; 
Lain in wait for each other 
In the lurks of the forest, — 
All the time, blood and vengeance. 

Blood and vengeance ! 
We have crept on each other 
Where we camped in the forest, 

♦The original name of the Wyandot tribe. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 53 

Where we dwelt by the river ; 
When we slept, when we hunted, 
When we mourned, when we feasted; 
When our fields were in tassel, 
When our fields were in yellow; — 
All the time, fire and ruin, 
Fire and ruin ! 

' ' We have fallen under the hatchet 
Like the trees of the forest 
Under the axe of the white man. 
At the hiss of the arrow 
And the whiz of the bullet. 
We have sunk, torn and mangled. 
Like the green corn of Summer • 

When the clouds hail upon it. 

But the Great Spirit's anger. 
At the si;rht of our warrinjr. 
Has at last kindled fiercely. 
And we melt from before it 
Like the hoar-frost of Spring-time 
When the sun flames upon it. 
At his blast of destruction, 
We had dropped, seared and withered. 
Like the nipped leaves of Autumn 
When the wings of the North wind 



64 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Beat the heads of the forest. 

Ye have heard how Wahcondah, 
In the night, warned Oheno, 
And through him all the nations 
Of the Red race, to hasten, 
And, as friends, meet togethei* — ■ 
Smoke the peace-pipe before him. 
It is well: we must hearken, 
And be warned. Let Wahcondah 
Rule. Rule, Great "Wahcondah!* 

" Warriors, listen ! 
In the East, strong and shining, 
There a light has arisen, 
And we shrink from before it 
Like the small stars, the twinklers, 
When the great sun is coming : — 
That light is the pale-face. 

lie is even now upon us, 
On this side Alleghany, 
With his long knife and rifle. 
With his bright plough and sharp axe. 
Hark ! His sharp axe is ringing 



* This, though the name given the Good God, or Great Spirit by several 
Northwestern tribes, is neither Wyandot nor Shawanee. The Wyandot for 
Great Spirit is tamaindezue; the Shawanee, mishcmcneloe. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 55 

In the woods which Wahconclah 
Long ago gave our fathers. 
Look ! His bright plough is passing 
Over the graves where our fathers 
Sleep the sleep of the honored. 
.A.t the voice of his rifle, 
Thunder-struck, we are falling. 
At the flash of his long knife. 
Lightning-struck, we are withering. 

AVe have said to the stranger : 
'Go away, we conjure you, 
From the land of our fathers. 
Great your strength, great your cunning — 
They are too great for red man ! 
Great your land, great j'our riches — • 
They are too great for white man 
Thus to come over the mountains 
To despoil and destroy us, 
AVho are poor, weak and simple.' 

Then he shakes hands with red man — 
First this tribe, then the other — 
Shawanee, Huron, Mingo; 
Calls us friend — -Indian brother ; 
Gives us guns, knives and hatchets ; 
Gives us tooatscewie/'^ 

'The Wyandot for rum, ov firc-icatcr. 



56 SEEN AND HEARD. 

When we lose sense and wisdom, 
And, like wolves gone all rabid. 
Fall in rage on each other — 
Shooting, cutting and splitting — 
With the arms he has given us; 
At his will, more blood running — 
Red man's blood, shed by red man- 
Then when clubs, black stone hatchets^ 
Arrows and bows, were our weapons, 
And the blood, hot from fierce hearts, 
All we drank for fire-water. 

Why all this? Warriors, listen! 
That the tribes of the red race 
May destroy one another, 
Root and branch, from the green eartL 
And their land leave to white man. 
Great his strength, great his cunning ! 
Too great ! Too great for red man ! 

" Ilurons, hear Ilworaminta ! 
Shawnccs, hear Ilworaminta ! 
Chippewas, Mingos, Mohawks — 
All, hear Hworaminta ! 
We join tribes and kindred^ 
We must join hearts and weapons, 
And beat back, over the mountains. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 57 

Whence he came, this dread stranger. 

If he comes, we must vanish ; 

If he stays, we inust perish. 

Great his strength, great his cunning! 

Too great ! Too great for red man ! 

Join, red brothers, join. 
Brave and wise of the Huron, 
Give your ears to the answer 
Of the chief, Yoonemskota^ 
To the chief, Hworaminta." 

Again Yoonemskota quits smoking so proudly, 
Yet turns not his eyes from the blue sky before him ; 
He looks through the door-way, he looks not around him ; 
He answers them not ; yet he smokes not so fiercely. 
Less fiercely are all in the council now smoking, 
Nor fiercely at all, but for thoughts of the stranger. 
No wrangling is there like the pale face in big talk ; 
Naught passes their lips but the smoke of tobacco — 
The smoke of siamo from calumets rolling ; 
Till Snake-Eye stands up to harangue in the council, — 
Plis smiling face sleek as the skin of a serpent. 
His supple tongue forked with Cattery and venom ; 
And eyeing the captive as snake eycth eagle. 
Thus Snakc-Eyc begins his smooth-running oration. 



58 SEEN AND HEARD. 



SPEECH OF SNAKE-EYE. 



^^ "ITTILL the Sliawanee believe it? 
' ' Will the Chippewas believe it ? 
Can the Ilurons .scarce believe it? 
That the terroi* of the nations — 
Yoonemskota — is our captive ? 
Are the braves who made him captive 
Proud of their exploit? They must be: 
For, in open battle, who stands 
Face to face with Yoonemskota ? 
Who shows finger, foot or feather, 
When he's lurking near in ambush ? 
Had not sleep first n:ade him captive. 
Think yc, he had been our captive? 
Yoonemskota been our captive ? 
Never ! Sooner had ten Hurons 
Bitten the dust and gone to sleep in blood ! 

" Yoonemskota, to our people, 
Long has been a name of terror ; 
For his hand of fire has touched us, 
And our land, from border to border, 
Blazed. For in the thickest of battle, 
Glancing like (he flamc-cj-cd lightning 



i.\ci- is seen his terrible hatchet, 
Cleaving, levelling all before it. 
For the war-whoop that he senc's up 
Ever is answered with a death-yell; 
Till Shni'-ancc and Yooncmskcta 
Have been coupled with ca'-h other 
As one in terror to the nation'.:. 

"Warriors, war-chief ] v/oramiuta, 
AVhen he first spake in fho oou);oil. 
Talked of vengeance on our captive. 
True it is that Yooneniskota 
Well deserves to bide our v ngcance. 
13ut, braves^ listen ! Listen, sages! 
Yoonemskota's peoplj lovo him — 
Love him as their greatest leader. 
Love him as their greatest glory : 
Burn their leader, burn their glory — 
Yooneniskota — at the tleath-stake ; 
And that love .Nhall come upon us, 
Burning, wasting, bloody hatred, 
Which, like fire that sweeps the prairie, 
Never stayed till rivers quench it — 
Never can be stayed till rivers 
Of Wyandot blood shall quench it. 
Then, beware of Shawanee vengeance ! 



60 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Brave as wc are they, and stronger ; 
Stronger still they'll be, and fiercer, 
If their chieftain feel our vengeance — 
If we death-stake Yoonemskota. 
Wyandots, beware ! 

" Ilworaminta and Oheno 
Words have spoken in the council 
Favoring peace — words full of wisdom 
Has brave Yoonemskota heard them? 
He has been our foe, the fiercest 
Ever known to the Huron totems 
Will he not now be our brother ? 
Smoke the peace-pipe? bury the hatchet? 
We will meet him with our warriors, — 
Him, and all the chiefs and warriors 
Of the mighty Shawnee nation, 
On the other side Ohio, 
In the tall woods of Caintuckee — 
Neutral ground to tribes of red men — 
Crossing in a thousand canoes. 

Thero we sit beneath the great oak. 
Where we fought that terrible battle, 
And the peace-smoke from the white pipe 
Shall go up and hover above us. 
Like the good-will of Wahcondah ; 



YOOXEMSKOTA. 61 

Gathering up all thoughts of hatred 
From our hearts into its sweet breath, 
That the morning winds may blow them 
Far beyond the Land of Sunset — 
Scattered and lost in the Night of the Wicked. 

" War-chief Yoonemskota hears us ? 
Will he go and bring the Shawnee 
To a peace-talk with the Huron ? 
Heeded our words — brave Yoonemskota 

Lives! 
Scorned our words — proud Yoonemskota 

Dies ! " 

And now Yoonemskota quits smoking his war-pipe, 
Up rears from his bear-skin, and fixes on Snake-Eye 
A look of fierce scorn. Thcn^ more calmly surveying 
Each brave of the council, begins his oration 
In tones like the rolling of far-distant thunder. 
That shakes the firm hills ere it bursts on the valley. 



$£0J'YAv~— 



62 silEN and heard. 



SPEECH OF YOONEMSKOTA. 



"TTTYANDOTS, 

» ' Ye have given Yoonemskota 
Leave to speak in your council. 
Not the wont of the red man 
So to deal with his captive ; 
But, no doubt, good your reasons, 
Great your cause for so doing. 

' ' Let me first answer Snake-Eye, 
And bequit of him quickly, 
For a vile reptile is he : 
In the light, smooth and smiling ; 
In the dark, spitting poison ; 
Through the grass slipping slyly. 
Biting the heels of the heedless : — 
Clubs for such Clubs ! 

He has said to your captive, 
* Bring your chiefs — bring your warriors 
To the woods of Caintuckee ; 
Let our tribes meet together, 
And on ground that is neutral, 
Smoke the white pipe of friendship. 
Bring — and live, Yoonemskota! 



YOONEMSKOTA . 

Smoke — or burn, Yoonemskota ! ' 

He would come— would this Snake-Eye! 
Smoke and smile— shake the hand of 
Brotherhood; then in signal 
To his clan there in ambush, 
Drop the pipe— even the white pipe — 
And the blue smoke of friendship 
Would go up, poisoned, stifled, 
By the black smoke of treachery. 

Favor this — ' Yoonemskota 
j^iyes : ' — the life of a traitor ! 
Favor not — ' Yoonemskota 
X)ies : ' — the death of a warrior ! 

"I have heard brave Oheno — 
Bravest foe of the Shawnee. 
He once made Yoonemskota 
Bite the dust ; but he spared me — 
Spared and beat back his warriors. 
As they closed thick around me. 
With their steel flashing vengeance. 
AVhy he spared Yoonemskota, 
Know I not, — only wonder. 
He has said to your captive, 
< Let us shake hands as brothers : ' 
Had they met, armed and painted. 



63L 



64 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Face to face, on the war-path, 
And the brave Iluion offered 
There his hand, Yooncmskota 
Had been glad then to take it. 
And had said, ' brave Oheno, 
We are friends I we arc brothers.' 
But the hand of the captive, 
And the hand of the captor 
Jfay not grasp one another, 
With the free grasp of friendship. 

"To the howl, raised by Black Wolf, 
In the ears of the council, 
Shall a war-chief deign to answer ? 
With my ears shut, I heard it ; 
With my lips shut, I answer. 
Let ihe wolf lap his fill. 

"I have heard Ilworaminta, 
First, and last, pleading vengeance 
First, and peace, last ; but ever, 
As a great sachem, mindful 
Of the welfare and honor 
Of his tribe. Such be honored ! 
Let the chief Yooncmskota 
Give the chief Ilworaminta 
Honor ! 



YOONEMSKOTA. 65 



"But, Ilurons, listen! 
Can the chief of the Shawnee 
Give the right hand to foemen, 
With their bonds still upon it? 
Light the pcacc-pipc with foemen, 
Lest his dcatli-pllc be lighted ? 
Let him stoop thus for mercy, 
And shall both friend and foeraan 
Hoot at big Yoonemskota 
As a wolf. Savage fighter 
Until caught, when he crouches 
At the feet of the hunter, 
With no more spirit in him 
Than a tame dog when beaten. 

Let the hands of j'our captive 
Wear their bonds all unslackened, 
Till his own strength and cunning 
Shall in twain break asunder. 
Or .the red stake divide them. 
But his free spirit leave him ; 
Let that go all untrammelled, 
As the wild horse unbridled, 
And abroad on his prairie ; 
As the war-bird untcthered. 
And aloft 'mid his mountains. 



6B SEEX AND HEARD. 



" Wyandots, since ye bid me 
Speak, hear then my counsel: 
And there be Mingos here, and 
Chippewas — friends, no less, to 
Shawanee than to Huron — 
Who can bear faithful witness 
To words I shall utter — 
Words t have uttered. Listen! 

W^hen yc've sent Yoonemskota, 
Through the fires of the death-stake. 
To the Sun-land of Spirits, 
Go, with speed, to his people — 
Go, and take them his ashes, 
Ere the winds do it for you, 
And return, howling vengeance ! 
Go^ and say to his people, 
Here, behold in these ashes 
All that's left of your chieftain, 
Save the great name he leaves you — 
Name of great Yoonemskota! 
More than's left to our children 
Of the hatred we have borne you, 
All that's left to our children 
Of the death-debt we owed you ; 
For the full claim of vengeance. 
By his death has been answered — 



YOONEMSKOTA. 67 



Death of great Yoonemskota. 

Let us now cease our warring ; 
Let us henceforth be brothers, 
As the sons of one father — 
Even our Great Sire Wahcondah 
If we must go to battle, 
If we must have a foe to 
Keep alive vengeance, listen ! 
There's a foe on our border — 
Foe alike to the Huron, 
Shawnee, Mingo, Mohawk, — 
To the whole brotherhood of 
Red men : — pale face they call him ! 

Shawnees, hear the counsel 
Of your loved Yoonemskota 
That he left to his people 
Ere he took his departure 
Through the fires of the death stake 
To the Sun-land of Spirits. 

Lend your ears, my people ! 
To the words that your chieftain, 
Even your loved Yoonemskota, 
Heard declared in the council 
By the wise Hworaminta — 

Heard, well pleased! 



68 SEEN ANT) HEARD. 

" ' Hurons, hear Hworaniinta ! 
Shawnees, hear Ilworaminta ! 
Chippewas, Mingoes, Mohawks, — 
All hear Ilworaminta ! 
We must join tribes and kindred ; 
We must join hearts and weapons, 
And beat back over the mountains, 
Whence he came, this dread stranger. 
If he comes, we must vanish; 
If he stays, we must perish ! 
Great his strength ! great his cunning ! 
Too great ! too great for red man ! 

Join, red brothers, join !' 

" Wyandots, 
Ye have heard Yoonemskota. 
Now ye know why your captive, 
For his own honor, dares not 
Live ; and why for the welfare 
Of the red race he needs must 
Die. And this be his answer. 
He has lived like a sachem, — 
He shall die like a warrior. 
Farewell to Yoonemskota ! " 



YOONE.MSKOTA. 69 

THE DEATH-STAKE. 



FTIHE couucil-firc is quenched, and, self-doomed, 
-L The captive to the red stake stands bound ; 
The fagots heaped against him, breast-high. 
The day is well nigh spent. The red sun, 
Sluggishly sliding down the steep sky, 
As sluggishly creeping towards the shagged slopes 
Of yonder forest-crested hill range. 
The shadow of the council-house pine, 
AVhich, like index, points to where soon 
The moon shall clip yon lonely bald peak — 
The time when they shall light the death-pile. 

But brightly burns the captive's stern eye, 
As now he turns to take his last look 
At mountain, river, wood and fair plain — 
The pleasant objects of the sweet earth 
To vanish soon in the shades of death's night. 

Perhaps, when he is gone, the young braves 
Shall go and stand before their sires, saying : 
' ' Fathers, why stand the tribes so still now, 
And why upon the land this death-hush ? " 
Then shall some sage, upon whose hoar head 
Have snowed a hundred winters, lay down 



70 SEEN AND HEARD. 

His pipe, and thus make answer: " Sons, listen I 
And hear why stand the tribes so still now : 
'Tis because Yoonemskota moves not. 
And why upon the land this death-hush : 
'Tis because Yoonemskota lives not. 

He fell in the midst of his foes^ afar off. 
We heard the full — 'twas like the loud crash 
Made by the mountain oak when struck down 
At night by thunder-handed whirlwinds. 
We heard, and held our breath, and, awe-struck. 
Looking each other in the face, whispered : 
* What was it ? Shook it not the firm earth ? 
Surely, a mighty one is gone down? ' 
Then came the winds, the runners unseen, 
And, as they quivering flew us past, cried : 
Woe ! woe ! great Yoonemskota is fallen — fallen ! 

At the summons of the Great Spirit, 
He had gone to join his happy forefathers 
In the never-ending wild hunt. 
Where smile the flowery plains of Sunset — 
The happy hunting grounds — the Soul's Home, 
Whose borders none recross who cross once. 

" The sun, awakened by the Great Spirit, 
Springs, flushed and flaming, from the red East, 
And dashing from his face the bright clouds, 



YOONEMSKOTA. 71 

Called to the winged winds to come forth 
And strip the mountains of their mist-robes, 
That he may see his course with clear eye, 
As up the sky he takes his proud march. 
He drinks the dews, to slake his hot thirst ; 
He burns the earth at noon with fierce heat ; 
Then down the sky he rolls with wild speed. 
Till, quenched in blood-red clouds, 
He sinks down, lost in the gloomy depths 
Of black night. Cut he leaves behind him 
Many bright sparks, that shine all night 
To guide the red man through darksome woods. 
Where winds his war-path. 

"Thus, Yoonemskota, sun-like, came forth 
In the flushed morning of his lifetime. 

Before him lay the crimson war-path, 

The patli of blood, and fire, and great deeds. 
And proudly did he tread it — our war-chief— 
Till nations trembled, till the earth shook; 
Till down himself he sank — his life-fire 

Quenched in the blood of foes — his own blood 

And over him closed the shades of death's night. 

But he left behind him many great deeds. 

To shine in after times, like bright stars, 

And tell his people that lie once lived. 

And fire their young braves to the like deeds. 



72 SEEN AND HEARD. 

" Though Yooncinskota, our loved chief, 
Shine in our memory as a set sun, 
His foes remember him as a whirhvind, 
Which, from its ambush in the dark Weet, 
Leaps suddenly upon the high hills ; — 
A moment wrestles with the brave oaks. 
Breaking their stiff backs, humbling their proud heads, 
Then rushing on, with yell and hoarse roar. 
O'er hill and plain, straightforward, zig-zag — 
Leaving wide-wasted woods, and rent rocks, 
And haggled hills, to mark its foot print. 
Then ceasing on a sudden — hushed — gone ! 

"Your questions have been answered , young braves. 
Ye have heard why stand the tribes so still now ; 
Why over the land hangs this death-hush. 
Go follow Yoonemskota's war path ! 
Like Yoonemskota live, — like him die ! " 

A gleam, as 'twere the gleam of death steel, 

Begins to kindle in his stern eye. 

For now begins to ring his war-song. 

It cleaves the air, it shakes the still scene, 

As if it were a rush of death-wind ; — 

A sound at which the boldest hearts (juake 

With secret dread, and awe-struck, shrink back. 



YOONEiMSKOTA. 73 

'Tis like a sound, not earthly, heard when 

The soul, in lonely dreamings, walks side 

By side with the hidden voices of Ghost-land.^ 

And while those wild notes rise and ring cue 
Upon the quivering air, the tall woods 
Quiet their leaves and bend their proud heads 
To listen ; the river stills its low tune 
To liquid stillness ; the evening winds hold 
Their breath to mute attention hushed ; while, 
From whispering hill to whispering hill, fly 
The mocking echoes, till the charmed air 
Seemed thronged with voices wild and weird — 
And wild as the hidden voices of ghost-land. 
And thus proud Yoonemskota's war-song. 



YOONEMSKOTA'S WAR-SONG 



" rpHERE was a War-whoop ! 
-L It rang among the hills, 
It ran along the valleys ; 
Went sounding over the plains, 
Went echoing through the forests ; — 
And loudest, where the foe 
7 



5^4' SEEN" AND HEARD . 

Might licar it from his ambush, 
Or from his guarded camji ; 
And never without a death-yell, 
To tell it had been heard : — 
Yoonemskota's War-whoop! 

*' There was a Death-steel! 
It gleamed upon the hills, 
It gleamed along the valleys ; 
"Went flashing over the plains, 
AVent glittering through the forests ; — 
And fiercest, where the foe 
flight see it from his ambush. 
Or from his guarded camp. 
It never was uplifted 
But that a foeman fell : — 
Yoonemskota's Death-steel ! 

" There was a War-path ! 
It ran among the hills, 
It ran along the valleys ; 
Went sweeping over the plains, 
AVent winding through the forests ; — 
And reddest, where the foe 
Lay strongest in his ambush, 
Or in his guarded camp. 



YOONEMSKOTA. % 

It never crossed the border 
But foemen strewed its track : — 
Yooneiuskota's War-path ! 

*' There was a Fire-brand ! 
It flamed upon the hills, 
It flamed along the valleys ; 
Went blazing over the plains, 
Went glaring through the forest 
Before it smiled the land, 
With pleasant towns and corn-fields ; 
Behind it smoked the land 
With blackened desolation ; 
And foemen fled its wrath : — 
Yooneraskota's fire brand ! 

" There was a Whirlwind! 
It growled among the hills. 
It howled along the valleys ; 
Rolled bellowing over the plains. 
Rushed yelling through the forests. 
From its wide-sweeping hand 
It hurled the jagged lightnings, 
Piercing the whirling clouds, 
Stunning the steadfast mountains. 
It tugged at the oaks and pines, 



7& SEEN A'SD HEARD. 

And left them mangled and shivered ; 

It stamped upon the plains, 

And left them scarred and furrowed ; 

It pushed against the hills, 

And left them rent and twisted. 

Then fell a hush on the land ! 

Yoonemskota, the Whirl-wind ! 

" There is a Death-stake! 
'Twill tip a hill with fire, 
Spit flames into the valley ; 
Fling sparkles over the plains, 
Shoot lightnings through the forest. 
And when they light the pile, 
The doomed shall dance upon it — 
Upon it dance as blithe, 
As dance the doomcrs round it. 
Dance, doomed and doomers — dance ! 
Yoonemskota's death-stake ! 

' ' There is a Triumph ! 
To burn upon the hill, 
And let the valley tell it, 
And let the plain repeat it. 
And let the forest shout it. \-^ 

Then may the warrior light 



YOONEMSKOTA. 77 

His war-pipe at his death-pile, 
And with the smoke of revenge 
Send up the smoke of defiance ; 
Dance on the burning coals 
His war dance ; sing his war song 
Amid the howling flames ; 
Defying the utmost vengeance 
Their tortures can inflict ; — 
Defying them, defying them ! 
And laughing them to scorn ! 
A triumph ! a triumph ! 
None but the brave deserve ! 
Yooneraskota's triumph ! 

' ' There is a Name ! 
It rings among the hills, 
It rings along the valleys ; 
Goes sounding over the plains, 
Goes echoing through the forests ; 
A name that friends shall sing, — 
A cry to lead to victory, 
A sound to waken love. 
A name that foes shall whisper, — 
A cry to bring defeat, 
A sound to waken terror. 



78 SEEX AND HEARD. 

Earth rings with it so loud, 
The hollow sky must answer ; 
Till far in Sun-set-land, 
The Hidden Voices echo, 
And ring it in the ears — 
The ears of' great AVahcondah ; 
And great Wahcondah smiles, 
And smiling says . ' Come quicky. 
Quickly, brave warrior, come ! 
And join thy happy fathers — 
Thy fathers good and brave — 
In the never ending wild hunt. 
Come ' ! and he calls the name — 
The name that foes shall whisper, 
The name that friends shall sing, — 
The name of Yoonemskota ? " 



SUNSET. 



HUSHED is the voice of the doomed chief- 
Silent the song of the proud brave ! 
Still from the depth of his stern eye 
Fearfully flashes the death-gleam : 
Oft have his foes, on the war-plain, 



YOONEMSKOTA . 70 

Met, without flinching, its fierce glance; 
But from the light of its death-gleam 
Shrink they with trembling and vague dread. 
Snapped is its spell, like a bow-string — 
Spell of that song on the charmed scene. 
Stealthily rising, the soft winds 
Talk in the tops of the tall woods, 
Whispering like voices from ghost-land. 
Nodding again is the tall wood — • 
Loftily nodding its plumed crest. 
Sweetly renewing its low tune, 
Shiningly ripples the broad stream, 
Solemnly singing its low tune ; 
Red as vermilion, its brown banks, 
Glistening as wampum, its gray cliffs, 
Bathed in the sheen of the low sun. 
Now by the spell of those weird notes, 
Fettered no longer, the lone scene 
Turns up its beautiful wild face — - 
Timidly up to the calm sky ; 
While, as in answer, the calm sky 
Smilingly bends to the lone scene. 
Bringing assurance that all's well ! 

Though still afloat on his light clouds, 
Slowly is sinking the Day-chief; 



80 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Now he is resting bis broad chin, 
Quite on the crest of a green peak — 
Ogling the earth betwixt two 
Venerable pines, that as steep mounds, 
Built up of verdure and vine-grown, 
Stand there to pillow the bright gates 
Leading to Sunset, the soul's land — 
Soon to be closed on the sweet earth. 

Thitherward, fixedly, long looks 
Doomed Yoonemskota : at last speaks — 
Brighter yet burning that death-gleam :— 

" When it is over and all still, 
Then shall my spirit depart hence, 
Passiag betwixt the two great pines : 
Listen, and hear ye a wild rush! " 

Scarce has he spoken — when look, look! 
There, as if leaped from the bright clouds, - 
Just there betwixt the two great pines — 
Stands on the summit a light form, 
Airly flecking the sun's face. 
Brave Yoonemskota is awe-struck — 
Troubled the depth of his stern soul. 
For in bis dreams lias he oft seen 
Flitting before him a bright shape, 
Like that now fleckintr the sun's face. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 81 

Say, Yooneniskola ! what seest thou. 
Spectre-like, flecking the sun's face? 
Is it a spirit of Sunset 
Coming to hide in the night shades 
Till it is over and all still, 
Then to conduct thee by dim paths 
Over the borders of ghost-land ? 
Or but a beautiful mist-shape, 
Such as are met by the lone soul 
AVhen it is roaming by dream-light 
Over the realms of the Unseen ? 
Maybe a maid of the wild wood, 
Fair as the mornings with tall form 
Light as the fawn of the white foot ; 
Hair like the locks of the storm cloud. 
Eyes like the depths of the starred sky. 
Maybe 'tis this, and perhaps — that ! 

Who knows I "Who knows ! 

Weary of looking the day long, 
Now from betwixt the two great pines 
Smilingly winketh the Day-chief — 
Winketh good night to the sweet earth, 
Kissing the hem of her green skirts, 
As he w ithdraws from her loved presence ; 
Then on the bosom of fair clouds 



82 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Drowsily pillows his bright head. 
Sped to his slumbers by soft winds, 
Waving their fans from the cool hills. 

Scarce is he gone, when the fair clouds, 
Sinking down level and wide-spread, 
Flush up as crimson as war-plains — 
Plains where is ringing the death yell, 
Hissing and piercing the plumed dart, 
Whizzing and crushing the fell club. 
Flashing and cleaving the death-steel, 
Victor on vanquished, in wild rage, 
Stamping, and drinking the life-stream, 
Hot from the springs of the fierce heart, — 
Draught that alone can appease vengeance — 

Vengeance ! 



M O O N R I S E 



TWILIGHT is coming, with gray eye 
Widely distended, and soft tread, 
Softer than velvety wild cat 
Nigh wiihin spring of its watched prey. 



YOOXEMSKOTA. 83 

Next, like a giantess, mist-veiled. 
Silent and ominous, grim Night, 
Sullenly trailing her dun skirts, 
Over the sweep of the blithe Day, 
Slowly comes pacing her still rounds 
Over the breadth of the hushed earth. 
Followed' by shadows and wild shapes. 
Shapes to lie ambushed in mist-lurks, 
Waiting to frighten the lone soul. 
Thitherward wandering by dream-light 
Strayed from the hush of its closed lodge. 
Shadows to cover the gaunt -wolf. 
Panther and Indian, on still watch ; 
Shadows to cover the war-path, — 
Shadows to cover the death-stake. 

Still with his back to the death-stake. 
Tethered is standing the doomed chief: 
Still from the depths of that stern eye. 
Piercing the dark like a fur lamp. 
Glitters and glances that death-gleam. 

Swift to the call of their war-chief, — 
Call to assemble at moonrisc, 
That they may join in the war-dance, 
Danc3 in the glare of the death-pile — 
Hither the Wyandot braves, one 



84 SEEN AND HEARD. 

After another, now speed tliem, 
Stealing through forest and night shade. 
Soft as the velvety wild cat 
Nigh within sj^ring of its watched preyj 
Hungry and thirsty, as grim ghouls, 
Hasting to hold them a blood-feast. 
But there is one who appears not ; — 
Noble Oheno, the Brave Heart. 

Earnestly upward are all eyes 
Turned towards the top of yon bald peak 
Waiting the moment, the full Moon, 
Showing her face in the dim East, 
Tells them to kindle the death-pile. 
There ! she is coming — a soft glow, 
Spread like the wings of a spring mist, 
Gradually veiling the stai'red sky. 
Higher and wider it now swims, 
Shimmering, trembling in air; now 
Silvers the blue with a mild sheen : 
Next — and lo! with a keen edge, 
Clipping the skirts of tlie wliite clouds. 
There is the moon, and her broad disk 
Scarce half eclipsed by the bald peak. 

Read}' he stands with the pine torch. 
Greedily v^aitiug, is Black Wolf, 



YOOXEMSKOTA. 85 

For the sweet moment of moonrise, 

When he may kindle the death-pile, 

And of revenge have liis wolf's fill. 

But he delays for a brief space, 

Keen as he is for revenge : why ? 

Only to glance at what all w^atch, 

Wondering': the form of a tall brave 
Standing up there on the bald peak, 

Gloomily flecking the moon's face. 
Brave with the pride of the war-bird, 
Proudly is nodding his plumed crest, 
Swayed by the frolicsome night wiiids. 
Sporting as 'twere with a tall pine ; 
While, like the sheen of the loose stars 
Shot from the midsummer night sky. 
Gleaming from afar on the strained eye. 
Glitters the steel at his war-belt. 
Look, Yoonemskota ! A light form. 
Leapt as it were from the round moon 
Down on the top of the bald peak. 
Suddenly stands by the tall brave. 
Has not the like of that light form, 
Standing up there in the moonlight, 
Oft been before thee by dream-light ? 
Once been before thee at sunset ? 
Say, what manner of thing be it? 



86 si:k.\ am> jieaud. 

Is it that spirit of sunset 
Sent to abiilo in tlie night shad© 
"Till it is over and all still/' 
Then to eonduet thee, by dim paths, ' 
Over the borders of gliost-land ? 
Or but a beautiful niist-shape, 
Such as are met by the lone soul 
AVhcn it is wandering by di'eam-light 
Over the realms of the Unseen ? 
Maybe a maid of the wild Avood, 
Fair as the morning, with tall form, 
Light as the fawn with white foot ; 
Hair like the locks of the storm-cloud, 
Eyes like the depths of the starred sky ; 
Maybe 'tis this, and perhaps — that ! 
Who knows! AVho knows! 

Down to the car of the light form 
Bends, as if whispering, the tall brave, 
AVhilc from between them the moon's eye. 
Sidelong, is peering with still wink. 
Silent again, they now look down, 
Ivirncstly scanning the dark scene 
Passing beneath them : — The red stake. 
Fagots, and flickering pine torch. 
Captive and warriors, who still stand 



YOONEMSKOTA. 8T 

Gazing askance at tlie barred moon. 
Now they arc scanning tlic night sky, 
Westwardly pointing the tall brave. 
Whisper again, and the dark scene 
Passing beneath them again scan ; 
Then, in the wink of an eye, gone — 
Vanished in air, like a still dream ; 
And without shadow the moon hangs 
Clear and round ! 



FIRED 



A HORRIBLE yell ! And the rocks and the hills 
Hurled back from their caverns a savage response. 
Another, more loud, and the hoary woods shake 
As if a strong wind were astir in their tops. 

A border of dry wood, as touchy as spunk. 
Encircles the death-pile, and following this up, 
The red flames run rapidly round the red stake. 
Though distant a man's length ; for huge is the pile, 
And lofty the stake, and triumphant the dance, 
AYith which they are honoring great Yoonemskota. 



88 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Now bringing together its ends with a snap. 
Like a mad serpent catching its tail in its mouth. 
The circle of fire round the stake is complete. 
It writhes and it hisses, spits sparks in the air, 
Darts arrow-tongued blazes that lick up the leaves, 
And its red coil contracts, as constrictively drawn. 

And from the red circle is rising the smoke, 
A hollow, black pillar that looms to the sky. 
Where, huddling and spreading, it spirally rolls^ 
Like the throat of a whirlwind when sucking the waves. 

And round and round, like the demons of fire. 
The warriors go dancing, with caper and bound. 
They whoop as they caper, and yell as they bound ; 
Their war-song they sing, and their battle-cry shout. 
Their naked steel gleams in the glare of the pile. 
Like quick-dancing meteors streaking the dark. 
They stab at the flames as a thing that had heart ; 
As a thing that had bowels, they rip up the smoke. 
They flourish their war-clubs aloft in their rage. 
And smite them together with ponderous thump ; 
Their tomahawks brandish high over their heads, 
And clash them together with murderous ring ; 
Till fierce, as in fight, is the din of the dance. 
A frolic ! a frolic I — the frolic of Death ! 
A feast ! a feast ! — the feast of Revenge ! 
Come, join! Come, join in the frolic and feast! 



YOONEMSKOTA. 89 

But brave Yoonemskota is whiffing his pipe — 
Composedly whiffing his pipe as at home — ■ 
And together, as said he but now it should be, 
The smoke of defiance and torture ascend. 
When his death-pile was lighted, he begged of his foes, 
As the circle of burning lay quite beyond reach. 
To hand him a coal that his pipe he might light ; 
And brave Hworaminta, with hostile respect 
And stern admiration, did hand him the coal — 
With savage pjliteness, did hand him the coal. 

But the smoke of his death-pile as yet is too thick 
For the smoke of his war-pipe to show to his foes ; 
So his war-whoop he raises, his war-song ho sings, 
His triumph proclaims from his circle of fire. 
His defiance sends out from his pillar of smoke, 
Tq tell them how bravely and blithely it goes. 

"Brave Wyandots, fire!" cries he. "Fire! I am cold! 
Come scalp me and flay me that I may be warm ! 
And do it with knives that are whetted in flames ; 
With hissing hot irons my eye-balls bore out ! 
And through and through thrust me with splinters afire. 
That the fire of revenge may be quenched in my blood! " 

In answer, cries Black Wolf: ' ' There's time for that yet, 
My hardy one ; but there's time for that yet ! 
Fear not, fear not, but all shall be done ! 
O sweet ! sweet is the meal of revenge ! 

6* 



90 SEEX AND HEARD. 

'Tis sweeter than venison hot from the coals, 
Than buSalo marrow just cracked from the bones ! 
sweet ! sweet is the meal of revenge ! 
But sweetest when roasted, with dance and with song!'* 
And round and round, like the demons of fire, 
The warriors go dancing, with caper and bound. 
They loom through the smoke like the horrible shapes 
That are foaled by the night-mare in feverish dreams. 
When stands the heart still, and the limbs have no nerve 
To shake off the fiend that is crushing the breast. 

The gaunt wolves, afar off in dread of the blaze, 
Stand watching and howling and snapping their fangs; 
And scared from their nests by the uproar and glare, 
The night-birds rise wheeling and screaming aloft. 
The panther, high crouched in his tree-top, looks down 
With savage glee, waving his tail at the scene ; 
And rattle-snakes, lured by the shine of the flames, 
Crawl warily up till their glittering eyes. 
In thicket and grass, are seen glancing like sparks. 

Transparent is growing the pillar of smoke, 
As brighter and fiercer the circle of fire. 
Which tosses and surges and roars round the pile. 
Like a surf of the lake round a half-sunken rock, 
When aglow with the lightnings aflame in the clouds. 
And the innermost fagots begin to be scorched. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 91 

But hark ! Now it rings ; and the roar of the flames. 
The yells of the warriors, and howls of the wolves, 
Are scarce to belieard for the voice at the stake, 
As sings he his death-song, so loud and so dread 
That the hearts of the braves and the hoary woods quake. 
Though shakes not the voice that is singing this song. 



YOONEMSKOTA'S DEATH-SONG. 



" rpHERE is a Foe ! 

-*- His camp is in the land 
Of black and silent shadows ; 
His war-path in the sweep 
Of fire and flood and tempest; 
His ambush in the blast 
Of pestilence and famine ; 
His weapon but a breathy 
Blown cold and still in passing: — 
Death ! Death ! 

"He comes into the day, 
But none may see his shadow; 
Not when he joins the throng 



92 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Of foemen, fiercely fighting ; 
Nor when he joins the rush 
Of victors, madly chasing ; 
Nor when he joins the whirl 
Of captors, wildly dancing 
Around the burning pile — 
Around the singing captive : — 
Death! Death! 

" His foot is on the earth, 
But none may hear its echo, 
Though crushing be its tread, 
Though deep and red its foot-prints, — 
Seen in the crimson spots 
That cover the field of battle, 
Seen in the graves that rise 
Where foe with foe has fallen, 
Seen in the blackened heaps 
Of hunting camp and village. 
And in the ashes left 
Where burned the fire of torture : — 

Death ! Death ! 

' ' There is a Brave ! 
Who ever, without flinching. 
Has met the eye of death, — 



YOONEMSKOTA. , 93 

Seen gleaming in the hatchet 
Hurled whizzing at his head ; 
Seen glancing in the arrow 
Shot hissing at his heart ; 
Seen glittering in the long knife 
Struck fiercely at his throat ; 
Seen blazing in the rlflo 
Which, at his naked breast, 
Its smoky thunders bolted ; 
Nor flinches he now to sec 
Its fierce glare bent upon him 
From out the hungry flames : — 
A Brave ! A. Brave ! 

" A Brave that fears thee not. 
Thou black and silent warrior, 
Fell ambusher of night, 
Dread conqueror of the proudest ; — 
A Brave that -fears thee not. 
But dares the blackest horrors 
That follow at thy heels 
Or lurk among thy shadows. 

He dares ! lie dares ! 

" Go, call the shades of them 
Whom he has slain in battle, 



94 SEEN AND HEARD. 

To join the avenger's dance 

Around the hand that slew them ; 

To see a warrior die, 

And see a Avarrior triumph, 

When, through thy fiery doors, 

He steps into thy shadows, 

With spirit upappalled. 

And face to face confronts them, 

Confronts them, one and all, 

Unless they fly his coming. 

As in the day he slew. 

He comes ! He comes ! 

' ' I'm here ! I'm here ! 
Outside thy fiery door^ 
And waiting for thy greeting. 
Thy hand, brave Death, thy hand ! 
Our grasp shall be the warmer 
Thus joined amid the flames. 
Thy fiery doors are closing. 
Shutting me in with the dead, 
Shutting nie out from the living ! 
Thy hand, brave Death, thy hand! 
Farewell to Yoonemskota ! " 



VOOXEMSKOTA. 95 

QUENCHED. 



COLD horror is cliilling the limbs of the strong, 
And freezing the blood in the hearts of the brave ; 
For never has death-song been heard at the stake 
So loud and so dread as that sung by the doomed. 
They shrink from the death-gleam that burns in his eye ; 
The brands heap together to hasten his end; 
Call madly on Death, bid him meni his slow pace, 
And speed him to join in the torture and dance. 

The death-pile is shrinking — all red hot without — 
The red coil contracting, constrictively drawn; 
More near and more near creep the scrpcnt-tongued flames, 
Which now are beginning to lick up the sap 
Of the innermost fagots. His boar-skin is singed, 
His eagle plumes quiver, as quiver the flames. 
And seen through the air, all a-tremble with heat, 
The trees and the hills seem to d.ancQ with the braves. 

Already the flames are within reach of the stake, 
Already are leaping to bite at his plumes^ 
When, lo ! on a sudden, how blacked is the sky ! 
And hushed the wild din, as if silenced in death ! 
And as sudden as blacked, and more sudden than hushed. 
In torrents and rivers, down drops with a plump — 



96 SKEX AND HEARD. 

The rain — the rain — the rain ! 

And the fierce eye of torture, the mild eye of night, 

The sparks, and the twinklers, are quenched in a trice. 

The tempest is come, at a step and a bound, 
From the West, where, at sunset, the white clouds were seen 
To sink down as level and flush up as red 
As snow-covered war-plains when crimsoned with strife: — 
From the West, where^ at moonrise, the shapes on the hill 
Saw something unnoted by those in the vale. 

And round and round, like the warriors but now, 
The whirlwind goes dancing, with caper and bound. 
It spins and it whistles, it leaps and it yells ; 
It sweeps the tall forests with thunderous wings ; 
Now thrashing the branches and twisting the trunks. 
Now beating the heads of the poplars and oaks. 
Till down, with a hideous crash, they fall, riven. 
And the torrents and rivers still pour from the sky. 

The storm-demons, ambushed behind the black clouds, 
Are shooting their arrowy lightnings at earth, 
And the red shafts are piercing and rending the woods 
With a noise like the hissing and whizzing of darts. 
The voice of the thunder speaks down to the hills, 
Upshout the old hills^ with a nod of their heads. 
While their echoes, bewildered what answer to frame. 
Where pause none is left them, at random reply; 
Till thunder and echoes seem all to be one, — 



YOONEMSKOTA. 97 

And the torrents and rivers still pour from the sky, 
Loud, clear and triumphant, above the rude roar, 
It rings out again — the dread voice at the stake, 
In wild mocking irony, echoing words 
From thi3 war-song late sung and the death-song scarce 
hushed : 

' ' There is a death-stake ! 
It tips a hill with fire. 
Spits flames into the valley. 
Flings sparks over the plains, 
Shoots lightnings through the forest. 
And when the pile was lit, 
The doomed did dance upon it — 
Upon it danced as blithe 
As danced the doomers round it. 
Dance, doomed and doomers, dance ! 

" Hark ! black and silent warrior, 
Outside thy fiery door 
I'm waiting for thy greeting. 
Thy hand, brave Death, thy hand! 
Our grasp shall be the warmer. 
Thus joined amid the flames. 
Thy fiery doors are closing : — • 

Thy hand ! Thy hand ! 



98 SEEN AND HEARD. 

* ' And let the shades of them 
Whom I have slain in battle 
Come join the merry dance 
Around the hand that slow them. 
• Dance, Shades! Dance, Death! 

Dance with the doomed and doomers. 
While hottest burns the flames. 

Dance ! Dance ! " 

They've stood a few moments, amazed and appalled. 

At a tempest so sudden and fierce in its wrath ; 

Confounded, abashed at the words of the doomed, 

So savagely blithe 'mid the horrors around : 

Till now, in a flash, a wild panic strikes all, 

And, howling and yelling, they turn from the scene 

And fly to the shelter of wigwam and lodge. 

There follows a loud laugh of scorn from the stake, 

And the voice of the captive in mockery saying : 

" Brave Hurons, the whirlwind has blown out my pipe; 

Rekindle my fire, and I'll light it again." 

They are stung by the laugh, and enraged at the taunt. 

And back to the stake, through the darkness, they grope ; 

Unbind the dread captive, and drag him away 

To the lodge of the village, where warriors shall watch 

Till morrow brings sunlight and drives off" the shades. 

When proud Yooncniskota shall, surely shall, die! 



YOONEMSKOTA. 99 



HUSH! HE DREAMS. 



THE savage storm has fled. 
With loud yells, over the mountains ; 
The thunder's voice is hushed, 
The lightning's red eye blinded. 
The -wind, with besomed hand, 
Has swept away the storm-clouds, 
And left the sky serene, 
With the Great Spirit's smiling 
Seen playing over its face 
In thousand starry glances. 
The besomed hand, also, 
Has swept away the rain-mist. 
And left the earth o'erlaid 
With the clear sheen of moonlight. 
That silvers all the scene 
With dancing, shimmering brightness. 
The moon, among the stars, 
Has taken her place yet higher, 
And as she walks the heavens 
In all-eclipsing beauty. 
The small stars stand and watch 
With sidelong, envious glances. 



loo SEEN AND HEARD. 

And in the lodge the guards 
Cast sidelong, watchful glances 
At Yoonemskota, where, 
All motionless, he's lying ; 
Till, weary from the dance. 
And lulled by drowsy night winds, 
They sink down, one by one, 
Lost in forgetful slumbers. 
And Yoonemskota sleeps 
More soundly than his captors ; 
And while he sleeps he dreams, 
And dreams a wondrous vision. 

A thing of brightness now, 
It sports in beams of sunset. 
A thing of mystery next. 
It flits in shades of twilight. 
Brightness and mystery both, 
It now alights at moonrise 
Upon a far-off hill 
Of forest, bare but grassy. 
Where, lonely under the moon, 
Watches a giant warrior. 
They stand there, side by side, 
The moon between them winking, 
And talk in voices low ; 
But Yoonemskota hears them. 



YOONEMSKOTA. 101 

" What errand," quoth the brave, 
"Brings now my spirit sister 
From her sweet, flowery home 
Beyond the Sunset Mountains, 
Seeking her brother here, 
Who watches under tho round moon ? " 

" Brother," quoth she, " I'm come, 
Sent hither by Wahcondah. 
Listen ! This evening late. 
As I was sweetly rambling 
In happy sunset-land, 
I heard the sound of singing — 
A wild and mournful sound — 
Rise slowly from this green earth. 
Whereat I came and stood 
Upon the edge of Sunset, 
Whence I might see the earth. 
Where she lay green and smiling, 
Spread out beneath the sky, 
Betwixt the two Great Waters. 

Thence I espied a hill. 
And on the hill a death-stake, 
And bound fast to the stake 
There stood a noble warrior. 
Whose voice it was I heard, 
As sang he there his war-song, 

9* 



102 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Telling of mighty deeds 

In words of joy and triumph. 

But, for all that, I wept, 

So much did pity move me. 

That one so brave and strong 

Should come to death by torture 

" As I was weeping there, 
I saw a mighty shadow. 
As of a mountain thrown 
Across the plains at evening; 
And, looking back, beheld, 
Afar off, Great Wahcondah 
Slowly advancing toward 
The shining edge of Sunset. 
But ere he came a-near. 
He sat down on a mountain, 
His feet upon the plains, 
Where lowed the monstrous mammoth ; 
His head among the clouds. 
Where screamed the soaring eagle. 
The thunder of whose wings 
Rejoiceth him as music. 
His eye was like the sun. 
His eyelids like the rainbow, 
And when he spoke, his voice, 



YOONEMSKOTA. 103 

Like many thunders, whispered 
Behind the distant West, 
Filled all the laud witli echoes. 

" Quoth he, ' Why weep'st thou there, 

Fair daughter of the blue sky ? 

What trouble fills thy soul, 

Loved sister of the brave heart ? ' 

Quoth I, ' Hearest thou that song 

That comes up from the green earth?' 

Quoth he, ' I do, I do ; 

'Tis Yoonemskota's war-song.' 

Quoth I, ' And must he burn ? ' 
' No, no ! ' quoth the Great Spirit, 
'^ My rain clouds I will send. 

My thunders and my lightnings. 

My breath shall waft the clouds 

Full to the brim with waters, 

That over his pile shall hang 

And pour down like Niagara, J 

And ere his foes are 'ware, 

Quench their fierce fire of vengeance. 
Have I not, times and times, 

Warned my red children down there 

To cease from blood and strife, 

And live in love as brothers ? 



104 SEEN AND HEARD 

Warned them, by night, in dreams, 
By day, in shouting tempests ? 
But dreams have proved as mist. 
And storms as empty blowings. 
Now shall they see my wrath, 
As, till now, saw they never. 

But hie thee down to earth, 
To succor Yoonemskota ; 
Seeking thy brother first, 
The warrior, foes call Bravo Heart, 
Where, on his grassy peak, 
He watches under the round moon. 
What ho shall counsel, do ; 
For he shall counsel wisely. 
Be not afraid of aught, 
My hand shall go before thee. 
The night-guards I will seize 
And bind them fast in slumbers, 
And hood-wink them with dreams. 
That they feci not thy presence. 
On yonder floating cloud, 
'Twixt day and night just hovering, 
Thou mayest set out, and I 
Will waft thee quickly thither.' " 



YOONEMSKOTA. 105 

HIST! SHE COMES. 



SUDDENLY waking, he looks around. 
Surely a whisper from some one 
Came through the door with the night winds, 
Calling his name with the word, " Hist! " 

Closely encircling, the night-guards 
Round him are lying in deep sleep ; 
Nevertheless, in their clenched hands, 
Ready for blood at the least stir, 
Glitter their hatchets and scalp-knives, 
Deathfully bright in the moon's sheen. 
Tethered is he to the two braves 
Nearest beside him ; he stirs not. 
Lest at his throat their unsheathed knives, 
Panther-like, leap, and his death there 
Be as the death of the wild bull, 
Tethered and butchered in cold blood. 

* ' What have I dreamed ? " says the doomed chief: 
Surely, " 'twas more than a thin dream." 

Look, Yoonemskota ! but stir not. 
What is it darkening the lodge door ? 
Only the shadow of light clouds 
Plittingly crossing the moon's face. 



106 SEEN AND HEARD. 

No ! For above it is all blue, 
While, ■with the shadow thou seest there. 
Comes a soft whisper that says " Hist ! " 
Then 'tis that Spirit of Sunset, 
Thinking " it over and all still," 
Coming to lead thee, by dim paths, 
Over the borders of ghost-land. 
No I For the shadow thou seest there 
Comes with a smell of the wild wood 
Floating before it. It can, then, 
Be but a maid of the wild wood. 
Fair as the morning, with tall form. 
Light as the fawn of the white foot ; 
Hair like the locks of the storm clond, 
Eyes like the depths of the starred sky ; 
Coming to lead thee^ by dim paths. 
Out of the land of thy fierce foes. 

Yes, 'tis the child of the blue sky. 
Sister to him called the Brave Heart ; 
Seen by thee thrice in the day past, 
Oftener still in the year past. 
When the red sweeps of thy war-path 
Brought thee, invisibly, near where, 
Quivered, she rambled the green wood. 
Ignorant all of the dread eye 



YOONEMSKOTA. 107 

Secretly bent on her wild charms, 
When, unawares, she bewitched thee, 
Winning the love of thy stern heart, 

Warningly lifting her light hand. 

Caution enjoining, she glides in, 

Whispering — nor silentest night winds 

Whisper in syllables more soft — 
" Chieftain, the child of the blue sky 

Comes with her light to release thee ; 

Only be silent and stir not 

Till I have severed thy bonds." But, 

Shaking his head with a stern frown. 

Proud Yoonemskota forbids her. 
*•* Whatl be it said of a war-chief: — 
' Ha ! At the hands of a young squaw. 

Took he his freedom and life ! ' Ugh ! " 
" Noble Oheno, thou proud chief. 

Sends me to thee, and awaits us 

There on the top of the bald peak" 

Now he remembers his late dream : 

What he has heard and beheld there. 

He is content to abide by. 

Silently, quickly, with light hand, 

Cut she his tethers from neck, wrist, 

Ankl6; then whispers, " Arise, now." 



108 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Slowly he rises and stands up, 
Steps now astride of a dark brave : 
Suddenly turning, the dark brave 
Clutches his ankle with fierce grasp : 
Firm as a rock, and as still, stands 
Brave Yoonemskota a brief space. 

Mutters the slumbering brave : " Why 
Stand we here watching, the long night? 
Did he not burn at the death-stake ? 
Rang not our ears with his death-song ? 
Quake not our hearts at the wild rush 
Made in the air by his stern soul 
' When it was over and all still ? ' " 

So he relaxes his fierce grasp. 
Hoodwinked with dreams by the Great Spirit. 



LO! THEY FLY. 



OUT at the door of the great lodge, 
Silent as silentest night shades, 
Captive and maiden now steal forth. 
Swift as the shapes in a still dream, 
Crossed they the border of moonlight 



YOONExMSKOTA. 109 

Into the gloom of the wild wood ; 
Gliding on over the dead leaves, 
Lightly as treading on thin ice 
Over the face of a deep stream. 

Hist I Is that the alarm-cry 
Kending and shaking the night air ? 
No ! 'Tis only the gray owl 
Rousing the echoes, to tell how 
Hates he the shine of the full moon. 
Hist ! Is that the alarm-cry ? 
No ! That is only the wild-cat 
Screaming his rage at the young fawn 
That has evaded his fell spring. 
Hist! But there's the alarm-cry, — 
Surely, then rang the alarm-cry ! 
No ! 'Twas only the gaunt wolf 
Howling his rage at the elk-stag 
That has eluded his fierce chase. 

Noiseless as spectres they glide on : 
Furtively, now, through the bright spots 
Thrown by the moon in the dark woods ; 
fittingly, now, through the dim shades 
Thrown by the woods in the moon's sheen. 
Gliding on over the dead leaves, 

]0 



110 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Lightly as treading on thin ice 
Over the face of a deep stream. 

' ' Hist ! " And up from the long grass 
Suddenly rises a tall brave, 
Watching there under the round moon. 
"Lightly, more lightly, my swift ones! 
Death may be dogging your footsteps — 
Death, who disturbs not the dead leaves 
When he is trailing his marked prey ; 
Utters no cry with the fell spring 
Made from the depths of his dread shades. 
Hist ! Was that the alarm-cry ? " 

" Only the shriek of the wild cat," 
Answers the child of the blue sky. 
' ' Scarce have we cause for alarm yet ; 
Closed are the doors of the sharp ear, 
Heavy the lids of the quick eye, 
Stiffened the joints of the swift limbs, 
Clouded the waves of the clear thought — 
When the repose is the deep sleep 
Following the rage of the war-dance." 

" Shawanee, listen! and hear now 
What I would say," quoth the tall brave. 
" Thou art no longer among foes, 



YOONEMSKOTA. HI 

Captive, but free as the wild horse 
Kanging as lists he the broad plain ; 
Free as the thunder-winged war-bird 
Spurning the crest of the storm-cloud : 
Severed the pinions, the late plea 
Urged for not taking the right hand 
Offered in sign of the good-will 
Borne thee by one thou now know'st 
Can be none else than thy true friend." 

Proud Yoonemskota at last speaks : 
"Did I not see one at moonrise, 
Known as Oheno among friends, 
Called by his enemies Brave Heart, 
Here on the top of this same hill? 
What I beheld was a tall brave 
Standing here watching, his proud plumes 
Telling the course of the night winds. 
Gleaming the steel at his war-belt ; 
Barring the moon were his war-club. 
Quiver and bow, till her face showed 
Striped, like the face of the young brave 
Just setting out on his war-path. 
Nor was the warrior alone here : — 
Standing beside him, I saw one 
Bright as the moon when her young face 



112 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Shyly she turns on the proud earth ; 
Fair as the flower of the blue eye, 
Modestly hiding her wild charms 
Under the shade of the tall oak." 

" Even so," in answer quoth Brave Heart. 
" Here on the top of this same hill 
Stood we together, with sad hearts, 
Watching the moon as she came up 
Bringing the hour when thy death-pile 
"Was to be lighted. With sad hearts^ 
Till we beheld in the far West 
Something that promised of aid near, 
Aid at the hand of the Great Spirit. 
What we beheld was a storm-cloud, 
Suddenly heaving its horn'd front 
Out of its lair in the West sky, 
AVrathfully shaking its shagg'd mane 
Over the heads of the dark hills, 
Wrathfully over the death-stake. 
Then in our hearts we rejoiced, saying : 
' Lo, 'tis the hand of the Great Spirit, 
Lifted on high in the whirlwind, 
Coming to rescue the doomed one ! 
Let us be ready to help save." 

Answers tlie Shawaneo war-chief: 



YOONEMSKOTA. 113 

" But ye are saving from just doom 

One who is foe to thy tribe. Why ? " 

"Proud Yoonemskota," quoth Brave Heart, 
"Listen! Thy sires, in the years gone, 

Rescued our sire from the same fate. 

Know, then, and let it suffice thee, 

Why once, in battle, the son spared, 

Why now are daughter and son both 

Risking their lives to preserve thine, 

Joining in paying the life-debt 

Left by our sire till this full time." 

" Now am I willing with Brave Heart," 

Quoth Yoonemskota, "to shake hands, 

And, in the smoke of the peace-pipe. 

Pledge him my friendship for all time. 

Though unabated our two tribes 

Keep up their hatred and fierce strife, 

All unabated shall we two 

Keep up the friendship and good-will 

Which for each other begins now. 

Only to end when our lives end." 



114 SEEN AND HEARD. 



DOWN THE RIVER. 



■pENEATH them the mighty Ohio is winding 
■^ Its star-spangled length, like the serpent enskied; 
Here glinting the moonbeams in silver-edged dimples, 
Here shading yet deeper the shades of the woods 
That love to be near it to view their wild beauties, 
As, answering the greeting of soft-kissing winds, 
They see themselves nodding deep down in its waters, 
Where twinkle and shimmer the moon and the stars. 

" Farewell, and away with thee, brave Yoonemskota ! '' 
Cries noble Oheno, unjoining the grasp, 
True pledge of the friendship begun now between them — 
Between them forever — " Farewell, and away! 
The watch shall wake, look around, and not find thee; 
Then rings the alarm — and thy foes arc swift-footed. 
Look yonder, where liitherward bends the Ohio, 
And mark the high cliff overhanging the stream : 
Oheno's canoe in the shadow lies waiting ; 
Go, take it, and speed thee away to thy land !" 

But why does the pride of the Shawanee linger? 
Why flees not at once, as one fleeing for life? 
Quoth he : " Let me speak to the Wyandot maiden 



YOONEMSKOTA. 115 

Ere go I, if haply I go not alone. 

Bright Cheeha-karoni,* the fame of whose beauty 

Shines over the land, I have often beheld — 

In secret beheld her as round yonder village 

I followed my war-path through thicket and brake : 

When little dreamed she of the glance that was on her, 

And little dreamed I of the night that is come. 

Nor have I alone from the depths of my ambush 

Uehcld her ; but dreaming have seen — and to-night, 

As, guarded, I slept in the lodge of your village, 

When saw I and heard what persuades now my heart, 

That she has been sent by Wahcondah to save me, 

And haply to follow me hence and through life. 

And novv, I would ask if the Wyandot maiden 
Be willing to leave all and follow him hence 
Whose name is the Wyandot watchword for vengeance, 
Though henceforth the Shawanee watchword for peace ? 
When winter is hoary, my wigwam is pleasant ; 
When summer is leafy, then pleasant my camp. 
Whatever is choicest, in stream or in forest. 
For comfort or ornament, all shall be hers : 
The rarest of game, and of wild fruit the sweetest; 
The fairest of doe-skin, the richest of furs. 
The gayest of plumage and brightest of wampum, 

* Compounded from tlie two Wyandot words, chcafia (child) and kaghrt- 
r.iatc (sky)— c/ii7d of the ski/. 



116 SEEN AND HEARD. 

The fleetest of horses, the lightest of boats; 
And ever the heart of a Shawanec warrior, 
Who now, in his love for a Wyandot maiden 
And Wyandot warrior, shall cease to remember 
The hatred once felt for their kindred and name." 

The Wyandot maiden appeals to her brother: 
Quoth she : " What my brother shall counsel, I bide." 

" My sister," quoth he, " I have heard Yoonemskota, 
And please me his words. If they please thee as well, 
Then go ! and the Great Spirit prosper thy going. 
'Tis long after midnight. Farewell, and away! " 

They part from Oheno. He stands on the hill-top 
And watches till, far on the shine of the stream. 
The flashing of oars and the dimpling of waters 
Report that all's well ; then his own way he goes. 

They speak not a word. To be there with each other. 
Alone on the depths of that beautiful stream. 
With starry eyes glancing beneath, as above them, 
Is happiness more than enough for them now. 

The starry-eyed night has dismissed her bright watches. 
The young day is opening his one-burning eye. 
But far from the swift foot and strong hand of vengeance 
The Shawanee brave, with his Wyandot bride, 



YOONEMSKOTA, 11*J 

Still speeds him away, down the beautiful river — 
From sunrise to sunset still speeds him away ; 
Now westward and northward, then westward and southward, 
Then winding back eastward, and never straight on. 

For many a bend hath this beautiful river, 
As loth to depart from this beautiful land. 
To which it is singing, and seems to be saying: , 

" Ye shores that are twain, in one river be wed, 
And smile on each other across my bright waters. 
I do not divide you, but plightingly join. 
As hither and thither I wind me between you, 
To show how I love and embrace you alike." 

Another starred night has dismissed her bright watches 
That held out so kindly their lamps in the sky. 
Another young day is abroad on the mountains 
And fanning the earth with his wood-scented wings ; 
But far from his foes, in the land of his fathers. 
The Shawanee brave, with his Wyandot bride, 
Goes tranquilly rowing up mystic Scioto* 
Toward loved Chillicothe, the home of his heart. 

* From the Wy<andot, scionto, signifiying unknown. 



118 SEEN AND HEARD. 



YOONEMSKOTA'S PEACE SONG. 



rpHEN rose a song — 

-*- Above the din of men, 

Above the rush of waters, 

Above the whirr of winds. 

Above the roar of tempests, 

And echoed on in dreams — 

A song to gladden the nations. 

It came on over the plains. 

It went on over the mountains^ 

Along the northern lakes. 

Along the southern rivers, 

Till every echo leaped 

To tell— and tell it. 

For in those days of joy 

Sang Shawanee Yoonemskota, 

Not as in days agone. 

Of war and blood and vengeance, 

But brotherhood and peace 

Among the tribes of red men, 

Who heard him and rejoiced, 

Saying : ' ' Can our ears deceive us ? 

Is that a song of peace. 

And sung by Yoonemskota, 



YOONEMSKOTA. 119 

The spirit that rose in war? 
Let us listen and be joyful ! 
Let us listen and give thanks 
To good and great Wahcondah ! " 

" There is a Hand 
Above the hand of men. 
It leads the rushing waters, 
It guides the whirring winds, 
It sways the roaring tempest, 
And shows itself in dreams — 
The Hand that rules the nations. 
It came from sunset land, 
'Mid thunders, clouds and lightnings, 
And drew me mightily back, 
As I, with joy, was entering 
The fiery doors of death. 
A wiser heart He gave me. 
And sent me over the land 
To sing, as I am singing, 
Of brotherhood and peace 
Among the tribes of red men. 
brothers ! listen to me, 
Your brother, Yoonemskota, 
While he shows forth the Hand, 
Its mightiness and beauty. 



120 SEEN AND HEARD. 

That sends me with this song — 
The Hand of Great Wahcondah. 

' ' There is a Voice 
Above the voice of men. 
It murmurs in the -vvaters, 
It whispers in the winds, 
It thunders in the tempest, 
And echoes on in dreams — 
A Voice to daunt the nations. 
It comes from sunset land, 
It says, nor more shall say it: 

' Come quickly unto me. 
Ye warring tribes of red men ! 
Come on the path of peace, 
If ye would reach my presence : 
Come smolce the pipe of peace. 
If ye would win my favor ! 
Come quickly while I'm near ! 
The sun that shines above you 
Is ever beaming love ; 
The woods that wave around you 
Are ever shaking hands ; 
The streams that sing among you 
Are ever telling peace ; 
The same Great Father bore you, 



YOONEMSKOTA. 121 

And loves you all alike. 
Then why not dwell together 
In brotherhood and peace ? 
Once more I bid my children 
Come quiokly while I'm near, 
Lest I withdraw my smiling 
And let the night of death 
Forever thicken round you.' 

brothers ! join with me, 
Your brother, Yoonemskota, 
In hearkening to that Voice, 
The Voice of Great Wahcondah. 

' ' There is a Name 
Above the name of men. 
'Tis murmured in the waters 
And whispered in the winds, 
'Tis thundered in the tempests 
And echoed on in dreams — 
A Name to awe the nations. 
'Tis sung in sunset land. 
And all on earth may sing it, 
And live thereafter blest. 
Whose hands go out in friendship, 
Whose hearts delight in peace. 
But none on earth may hail it. 



122 SEEN AND HEARD. 

And live thereafter blest, 

Whose hands go out in vengeance. 

Whose hearts delight in war : — 

The Name of Him, the Maker 

Of everything that is — 

The Maker and tho Ruler, 

And Father of us all — • 

The mightiest of the mighty. 

brothers! join with me. 
Your brother, Yoonemskota, 
That all may hail the Name, 
The Name of Great Wahcondah. 
And, brothers, join with me. 
Your brother, Yoonemskota, 
In sounding over the land 
The song that I am singing, 
Telling of love and peace 
Among the tribes of red men ; 
Submission to the will, 
The will of Him that's mighty, — 
Even the great Spirit's will, — 
The will of great Wahcondah ! " 






YOONEMSKOTA. 123 



EPILOGUE. 



CHILDREN of the pale face, listen ! 
Many years have passed me by — 
Years of darkness, day and night; 
Years of silence, day and night; 
Years of sorrow, night and day; — 
Since I sang this Indian Idyll. 
Y'ears, when day was night prolonged — 
I^Iight without its quiet rest, 
Night without its pleasing dreams, 
Night without its holy calm ; 
When I scarce remembered even 
Having sung this Indian Idyll. 

But the years are brightening now : 
Par-lit glory cleaves the dark ; 
Far-sung music stirs the hush ; 
Far-sent joys come smiling down, 
Through the double, triple night, — 
Star-like shining, sphere-like singing; 
Though, as yet, the joys that smile, 
And the music that resounds, 
And the glory that illumes, 
llather seem the airy things, 



124 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Seen and heard and felt by one 
Still in night and silence dreaming. 

But, sweet friends, should I at last 
Wake to find them more than dreams ; — 
Should so blest a morning come, 
When, undoubting, I can say_, — 
' ' Lo, I live ! my night is past ! " 
Then what all these years have brought me, 
AVhat the dark, and what the hush, 
What the sorrow and remorse. 
What the strivings after good. 
What the lapsings into ill, 
* What the dreams, which dreams be not, — 

All, sweet friends, I shall reveal you. 

Meanwhile, should ye find delight 
In these fancies of my youth, 
Inasmuch that ye can say, — 
"Would thy youth had left us more ! " 
Ilecompcnsed shall be the heart 
That once sang this Indian Idyll. 
But if not, then go your way ! 
Go, sweet friends, your way with joy! 
Nor shall need go far to find 
Matter, worthier far to hold 



YOONEMSKOTA. 12{ 

Mind and heart two golden hours 
Than this rambling Indian Idyll. 

Go, till days like these be ours ; — 
Days of music in all things ; — 
Music in the world that plays, 
Music in the world that plods, 
Music in the world that plans ; — 
Then I'll bid you stand and listen — 
Listen while I sing a name — 
Name that never poet sang, 
Though the brightest and the best, 
Save the Father of our land. 
All this sunset world can boast, — 
Even the name of great Tecumseh. 

1852, 1868. 




11* 




THE END OF TIME. 



VISION 




DREAMED I was a wandering ghost. 

Led back, perforce, to Time, 
Where, hovering o'er th' eternal coast, 
I saw what I shall rhyme. 
I found that man on earth was dead. 
His very memory with him fled ; — 

Primeval silence reigned. 
The vast designs of human thought 
Had melted, vanished into naught : — 
Time — only Time remained ! 



The twilight dim of man on earth 
In death's black night was lost. 

And all the glory he put forth 
Was gone, like morning frost. 

Decay had laid a mouldering hand 

On all those works, so vast, so grand, 

(126) 



THE EXD OF TIM". 127 

Reared by a mighty race ; — 
Temple and tower and pyramid 
In their own dust lay darkly hid ; 

Even ruin showed no trace. 

The sun came slowly up at morn, 

At eve w^ent slowly down ; 
Forlorn came up, went down forlorn* 

Nor change nor rest was known. 
He staggered through the murky air, 
And in his eye ;i ghastly glare 

Presaged the parting ghost. 
Last, to a cinder charred all black. 
He strayed unnoted from his track, 

In space benighted lost. 

Now breathed no blossom-scented morn 

No eve with dreamy spell; 
No seasons nursed the golden corn, 

Nor rain nor snow-flake fell. 
No sound broke on the pulseless sleep, 
No blast howled o'er the stagnant deep. 

And ocean spake no more ; 
His voic(! of wrath was mute in death, 
No more he tossed with stormy breath. 

Or scourged the trembling shore. 



128 SEEN AND HEARD. 

The moon, bereft her sun-born beam, 

Groped blindly throug-li the night, 
And scarcely lent the stars their gleam 

To show for heaven's blest light : 
Like death-bed tapers, flickering slow, 
They, o'er the shrouded world below, 

Their ghostly vigils kept : 
Death roamed bewildered, lost in no\ight, 
And o'er the ruin he had wrought, 

At last, relenting, wept ! 

It was so still, so mute on earth. 

That from a far-off sphere, 
Seraphic music, pealing forth. 

Fell plainly on my ear. 
Still Time, with flight undevious, sped 
On^ on, where slept th' unmindful dead! 

Till, with an awful shock 
That shook the realms of earth and hell. 
The flying wheels of Time stood still — 

Fixed as th' enduring rock. 

Convulsive throbbing shook the world ; 

Strong nature's laws seemed lost ; 
The stars in mid-sky madly whirled, 

Like things in tempest tost. 



THE END OF TLME. 129 

And then on all hushed silence sank, 
And folding his swart pinions dank, 

Death, brooding, watched alone: 
The stars as listeners seem to stand. 
Expectant of some dread command 

From the Eternal Throne. 

And lo ! from heaven, the voice of God 

In awful accents broke ! 
And, stretching o'er the world his rod, 

He thus in judgment spoke : 
" Time ! offspring of eternity! 
Time, twin of mortal destinj^ ! 

For man thy race is o'er. 
Then backward roll, nor cease to roll. 
Till death his last dread knell shall toll. 

When thou shalt be no more !" 

Far through the realms of tether wide 

His words in thunder pealed ; 
Till worlds to questioning worlds replied, 

" The doom of time is sealed ! " 
Then o'er the dark and ruined world, 
Backward, resistless, time was hurled, 

His pathway to retrace : 
Earth groaned, lest her abortive womb, 



130 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Now grown the universal tomb, 
Might cast another race. 

The stars lit up the swarthy sky 

With a bewildered glare ; 
Swamp-meteors, flaring spectrally, 

Swam in the stagnant air. 
Half day, half night enveloped all — 
A light, more like a funeral pall, 

Enshrouding nature's breast. 
Hoarsely old ocean spake once more ; 
And whirlwinds from their caverns tore, 

Breaking the deathful rest. 

'Twas but the last convulsive start, 

Th' expiring of the flame ; 
The last pulsation of the heart, 

The sinking of the frame. 
Earth sank till ocean had no coast; 
A.nd every still-born, unlaid ghost, 

That homeless had remained, 
Shrieking and yelling, flew me past; 
And Death o'er nature's ruins vast, 

In dismal triumph reigned. 

Still Time, with speed terrific, rolled 
Through that unchanging night ; 



THE END OF TIME. 131 

No chronicler his progress told, 

No ages marked his flight. 
When erst he turned the future stood 
Outstretched, hard on th' eternal flood, 

Dwindled to scarce a thread ; 
But backward forced, had followed fast, 
And now, wide o'er the lessening past, 

Its growing shadow spread. 

Unsung by years, unmarked by man. 

As if from death he fled. 
Silent as death, his course he ran, 

Where slept not e'en the dead. 
By hands unseen, still backward borne. 
He, past creation's distant morn. 

With rush impetuous, flew : 
When, lo ! a dark, unmeasured sea — 
The dread depths of Eternity — 

Burst suddenly to view. 

Time heard th' interminable surge. 

Low thundering, beat the strand. 
And poised upon the frightful verge, 

A space did tottering stand : 
Then headlong falling from the steep, 
Down twice ten thousand fathoms deep, 



132 SEEN AND HEARD. 

In mystery profound, 
He sank beneath the shoreless tide. 
And o'er his head, in circles wide, 

The whirlpool eddied round. 

In grief, the heavenly spheres sublime 

Put on the garb of woe, 
And sang the requiem of old Time 

With solemn chant and slow. 
And as they sang his funeral dirge. 
The heaving of th' eternal surge 

A mighty measure kept ; 
Till far o'er starry solitude 
The chant, majestic, yet subdued, 

In mournful echoes swept. 

A lifeless, tideless, timeless world. 

Lost in th' eclipse of night. 
Through waving jether still was hurle 

By Omnipresent Might. 
And last I saw, or seemed to see, 
The ocean of eternity 

Send forth a mystic cloud 
That fell on Nature's endless rest. 
And folded earth's sepulchral breast 

In its oblivious shroud. 

1850, 1868. 



BLINDNESS. 




IGIIT of my darkened path, a moment stay! 
With hand attentive, thou hast led me far, 
Since from the grass at early dawn we brushed 
The glittering dew, and greeted gratefully 
Upon llie hill the joy-dispensing morn. 
With rambling, thou art weary, gentle friend ; 
This grassy, wooded knoll invites repose — 
Here let us take our leave of waning day. 

The red-bird blithe, and sad-voiced whip-poor-will. 
Are leading in the slow-paced summer eve ; 
A thousand insects hum their vesper hymn ; 
The mellow lowing of the distant herds, 
The neigh of horses and the bleat of sheep, 
Mingling accordant^ soothe the listening ear, 
And love for Him inspire who made them all. 
The reaper.", homeward from their half-shorn fields, 
With jest and laugh and jocund sound abound. 
Ail living things seem glad ; and I with them 
Rejoice, though all around, to me, is night — 

1-2 (133) 



134 SF.EX AXD HEARD. 

A night so dark that. I perceive it not, 

And only know it by its lack of change. 

Day follows day, night follows night; yet day 

Is naught to me but round of wakefulness ■ 

And sad renewal of my darkness. " Night 

Brings back my day," when friendly sleep sets free 

My prisoned soul, to i-oam at will through dreams, 

"Where light once more upon my vision breaks, 

And cheering face of man mine eyes behold, 

Of brighter days reminding. Sweet to me 

Is dreaming, empty though it be to minds 

With joys more stable blessed ; and to thee, Night, 

Who bringcth light in dreams, deep thanks I owe ! 

But oft I'm sad, Pensylla, that mine eyes 
Are shut forever from the sight of things 
By God created for the joy of man. 
And ope to naught but ever-brooding night. 
Whose foster child I am become since day, 
My natural mother, long has deemed me dead. 

What gloom ! A wall of shades^ a dome of clouds ! 
A sunless, moonless, starless sky, it hangs 
Betwixt me and the spangled blue of heaven. 
Earthward I turn mine eyes, and back recoil 
At such unflinching darkness. Heavenward, then: 
'Tis all a void — a universal void — 



BLINDNESS. 135 

And man a wandering, viewless voice in air ! 

I'm lost in this infinitude of night, 

To which no bounds, by space or time, seem fixed. 

But, say ! can darkness circumscribe the range 
Of thought — thought boundless as immensity — 
And smother in its folds that heavenly spark 
Which flashed from God's own brightness and inspired 
The new-born man with immortality ? 
Look up, my sorrowing soul 1 nor quench thy fires 
In unavailing grief. To mortal ken, 
Unsearchable are ways of Providence. 
Tor higher sphere than this thou art ordained ; 
Beneficent death alone can end thy night, 
And, with night, end thy doubts, thy fetters break. 
Thy sorrows heal, and usher thee to life. 
Where day rolls on without a vesper wane, 
AVhere light is God's own presence, and that light 
Forever at its zenith. I will mourn 
No more, nor with unmanly sorrow Him 
Upbraid, but close mine eyes and be resigned 
To momentary darkness, since from God 
It comes, as well as light. If I have mourned, 
'Twas but the natural weakness of the flesh. 

Pensylla, to the closing gates of day 
Now turn thine eyes ; — thy sight is sight to me — 



136 SEEN AND HEARD, 

Thou ajt the lamp of my benighted steps. 
Thou seest the sun, slow merging in a sea 
Of liquid gold, shooting his tangent beams 
Sheer o'er the earth, into the glimmering East. 
He rises, and shows forth our nether world; 
He sets, and lo ! the moon and starry host. 
Like sparks sent glancing from the eternal sun. 
Rejoicing, on their nightly rounds appear. 
With solemn mien, they tread the azure plain; 
Distant, yet in their numbers speaking power ; 
Silent, yet in their glory telling praise. 

Thus set my day — thus my long night approached 
And may my nighty ere its meridian — death — 
Impend, some excellence in me reveal 
Which God may deign, in future time, to own. 

1852, 1868. 





DEATH OF A ROSE. 



TO A YOUNG LADY IN THE FIRST BLOOM OP CONSUMPTION, 




FLUSHING amid her leaflets green, 
A ROSE I spied one soft May morn, 
Her flushed cheek bright with limpid sheen 

Of glistening dews in starlight born — 
A rose most beautiful. 
Her fair form, steeped in lucid light, 
Stood bending to the kissing gale 
That lingered on his changeful flight, 
To woo, with many an amorous tale. 
The ROSE so beautiful. 



But vain was wooing, sighing vain ; 

The rose remembered one bright star 
That nightly walked the spangled plain, 

Behind the moon's refulgent car, 
In radiant solitude. 

1-2* (137; 



138 SEEN AND HEARD, 

As late he traced his pathway blue, 

He peered down on the dream-bound world, 

And spied there, bathed in sorrowing dew, 
The ROSE, with all her charms unfurled, 
In blushing solitude. 

Then forthwith from her beauteous check 

She, smiling, shook the limpid tear. 
And upward turned her face to speak. 

In voice of perfume, none may hear. 
Of love unchangeable. 
Down softly stole an answering beam — 

It slid down through the twilight sad — 
And lighting, like an angel's droam. 

Brought to the rose the tidings glad 
Of love unchangeable. 

The gale departed with a moan^ 

Yet on his wings her perfume sweet 
Still lingered, like a silent tone 

That haunts where shades and echoes meet 
In halls of memory ; 
Where hopes lie dead, though buried ne'er; 

Where, like the lost lay of a lute, 
Lives love's sweet song, though hushed fore'er : 

For unseen shades and echoes mute 
Do dwell in memory. 



DEATH OF A KOSE. 130 

Drooping amid her leaflets sear, 

The ROSE I spied one summer niglit, 
Her pale cheek bright with sorrow's tear, 

Her wan form steeped in pensive light ; 
Still she was beautiful. 
Her blighted charms soon strewed the ground, 

When every tuneful wind that blows, 
With muffled wings, came whispering round, 

To sing tho requiem of the rose : — 
In death, still beautiful. 

A thousand tremulous drops of light, 

Like flaming dew, the sky besprent ; 
But hers, of all most pure and bright, 
A star-beam from his mansion sent. 
With joy unspeakable^ 
To bear from earth's ephemeral bowers 
Her perfume-soul, so light and free, 
Up to the spirit-land of flowers. 
Where odors sweet sing audibly 
Of bliss unspeakable. 

1853. 




TWICE IN FANCY. 






ER eye was bright with Elysian light, 
And shining as morning her hair, 
And pure was her face with angelic grace- 
Ah, she was entrancingly fair ! 



Iligli on her brow of sun-steeped snow 
Thoughts lucid radiance gleamed, 

And the light of love, like that above, 
In her eyes ineffably beamed. 

In delicate chase o'er her beauteous face 
Blithe smiles were wont to play 

Like sunbeams sweet that, dancing, meet 
On the morning face of day. 



As oft she dreamed, truth's sunlight seemed 
On her clear, chaste forehead lying, 

And softly driven, came visions of heaven. 
Like bands of angels flying. 



(140) 



TWICE IN FANCY. 141 

llcr form, as airy as that of a fairy 

In motion, a sunbeam shone; 
And lier tresses so bright, as a halo of light, 

Around her graces thrown. 

In her pathway grew, all spangled with dew. 

The violet, rose and lily ; 
In her presence so mild day warmed and smiled, 

Night sank to dreams more stilly. 

13ut -when she spoke, such music broke 

As made all melody mute ; 
As each sweet sound rang resonant round, 

It was as a soul-struck lute. 



It passed me by, like an angel's sigh, 

Then slept in memory's hall, 
"Where often still, like a flowery rill, 

I hear it rise and fall. 

That shape, so bright that it dazzled light, 

Beamed but to disappear ; 
And such charms, I ween, no eye hath seen- 

Such music, heard no ear I 



142 SEEN AND IIEAKD. 

Like an orient morn, 'twas in fancy born; 

In fancy it faded like even : 
It passed away at the dawn of day — 

It was but a dream of heaven ! 



II. 

Another came, like a cold, dark flame. 

And summer, all withered, fled; 
With a shuddering shriek, came winter bleak. 

And blossoming joys dropped dead. 

Her eye was bright with a fatal light, 

And sable as night her hair, 
And frigid her face as a sculptured Grace — 

Ah ! she was fearfully fair ! 

Athwart her brow of moon-steeped snow 
Flashed ominous gleams of thought. 

While her shadowy rings, like death's swart wings, 
A double darkness wrought. 

In fitful chase o'er lier pallid face, 

Like shadows of clouds o'er snow, 
The dark smiles crept, and her cold breath swept 

All sights from earth but woe. 



TWICE IX FANCY. 143, 

As oft she dreamed, a nightmare seemed 

On her heart to lay its weight, 
And a chill of dread her face o'erspread. 

Like rime on a marble Fate. 

As oft she frowned, all darkened round; 

The sun was lost at noon : 
Day mocked the gloom of the rayless tomb, 

Night mourned a sightless moon. 

In her pathway grew the night-shade and yew. 

All rigid with glittering sleet. 
And the lichen dun, that scarce knows the sun. 

And knows no balmy sweet. 

On her silvery tongue chill accents hung, 

That dropped with an icy tinkle. 
And the frozen tones brought stifled groans, 

Ileart-ache, wan youth, and wrinkle. 

They by me passed like a phantom blast, 

Then crept into memory's hall, 
Where often still, like an ice-bound rill, 

I hear them swell and fall. 



144 SEEN AND HEARD. 

From that shape of night, so darkly bright, 

My spirit shrank in fear ; 
And such charms, I ween, no eye hath seen. 

Such music, heard no ear! 

Like an arctic morn, 'twas in fancy born ; 

In fancy it dusked, like even: 
It fled away at the dawn of day — 

'Twas not a dream of heaven I 

1853, 1868. 




MY DREAM OF PENSYLLA. 




HERE shone an angel in my sleep, 

That still, when waking, haunts my soul ; 
Down brightly through th' ethereal deep, 
She on my raptured visions stole 
In dreamy silentness : 
And floating in the star-lit air 

On wafting clouds of rosy light, 
A shape, methought, more wondrous fair 
Ne'er beamed from heaven on mortal sight 
In dreams and silentness. 



In beauty hovering o'er my head, 
She smiled and beckoned me away, 

And swift as light my spirit fled 
From this worn tenement of clay 
In trembling ecstasy ; 

And with that messenger of heaven 
Ascended on her rosy car, 

13 



(145) 



146 SEEN AND HEARD. 

By pinioned zephyrs swiftly driven, 

Through realms where shimmered many a star 
In radiant ecstasy. 

Down, down I looked! and lo ! the earth, 

Now than the moon no bigger grown, 
With all her haunts of woe and mirth. 

On my far-reaching vision shone 
In airy solitude ; 
And, as a flash, world after world. 

That once as twinkling lamps had seemed. 
In tracks of glory by us whirled, 

While, with their far-heard whispers, teemed 
Ethereal solitude. 



Ere long, there dawned a fairer morn, 

E'en on that day of fairest light. 
And on our chariot-cloud still borne. 

And rising, in our devious flight. 
Through starred infinitude, 
A world bewildering on me burst. 

Where sheen dimmed sheen, blaze blinded blaze; 
Where bright shapes grouped, or far-dispersed. 

With harping strains and choral praise, 
Filled heaven's infinitude. 



MY DREAM OF PENSYLLA. 

As we drew near the crystal walls, 

"Which, fringed with points of lambent fire, 
Shone lucent round the heavenly halls, 

My angel guide struck her soft lyre 
AVith touch so magical 
That straight the golden portals oped, 

And, thronging out in glistening streams. 
They, who on earth had mourned and hoped. 

Chimed forth a welcome soft as dreams, 
In music magical. 

The chariot-cloud of rosy hue, 

In light that zoned the Mount of God, 
Merged, like enchantment from the view, 
And we on solid tether trod. 
'Mid wonders infinite, 
I took my way, in silent awe. 

Along the amaranth-bordered road, 
■ And groups of stately seraphs saw. 

Where joys perennial ripened, glowed, 
In Wisdom Infinite. 

Now, in the vision of my sleep. 
My angel guide, enshrined in light, 

Showed me a lone star -beacon steep 

Which, midway raised above all height, 



147 



148 SEEN AND HEARD. 

O'erlooked immensity. 
And when, with speed outstripping dreams, 

Its opal summit we had scaled, 
All steeped in truth's eternal beams, 

The blest we saw, with brightness veiled, 
Shine through immensity. 

Then the celestial vision spoke 

In tones that ne'er an echo found, 
But in my dreaming spirit woke 

The phantom of an earthly sound 
That haunted memory. 
Soft as a twilight shade, it came — 

It did my inmost soul enchant ; 
transport ! 'twas Pensylla's name — 

A name, I ween, that well might haunt 
An angel's memory ! 

" mortal of the dreaming soul ! 

Not yet for thee these beauties glow, 
Not yet is reached thy earthly goal ; — 
Thy destiny, still linked below. 
Holds thee from Paradise. 
For, like the whirr of angel wings. 
Far o'er the future shadowy waste, 



MY DREAM OF PENSYLLA. 149 

A mighty voice of glory sings, 

"Vyhicli thou must win ere thou canst taste 
The joys of Paradise." 

And as she spoke, such tears I wept 
As ne'er before told sorrow's tale ; 
For o'er my soul the memory crept 
Of shades and pains down in this vale 
Of gloomy emptiness. 
Heaven's joys must fade where tears are shed, 

And, like the sun-born arch of even. 
Prom my rapt gaze Pensylla fled. 
And with her faded light and heaven 
In gloom and emptiness. 

1853. 





DREAMING 



A FRAGMENT. 



SUBJECT : THE BEGINNING OF A DREAM. 




j|EEP in the brain's mysterious core. 
Ere veiled from waking sight 
By clouds of dreamy light, 
There is a secret postern door, 
"Watched nightly by that gentle warder. Sleep, 
Who, waiting, with obsequious hand 

Oft turns the golden key, 
AVhen straight that magic, mystic land, 

Which only dreamers see. 
Outstretching far its shadowy strand, 
Is spied, broad shimmering o'er the starry deep. 
Gorgeous and vast, yet undefined, 
Till, taking shape ere long, 
Its glorious visions throng 
The unknown chambers of the mind. 

(150) 



DREAMIXG, 151 

And when the prisoned soul espies 

This postern door ajar, 

Free as an errant star, 
Forth to that mystic land she hies, 
To walk familiar with some mighty shade ; 
Or, pensive^ muse by haunted springs 

That shun the eye of noon ; 
Or, blithesome, join in fairy rings, 

By glimpses of the moon, — 
Herself a-poise on buoyant wings; 
Then skimming off o'er stream and wood and glade. 
Till all is mist before the eye, 

And from a splendid dream 

Comes scarce a golden beam 
To gild the halls of memory. 

But oft the deepest deep is stirred, 

The innermost awakes, 

"When o'er the spirit breaks 
Music that flesh hath never heard. 
Then are the mysteries of fate laid bare ; 

Far gleams of life shine through the tomb, 

Death and immortal Being, 
Blending, their natural shapes assume; 

Glimpses of the All-seeing, 
Sublime in beauty, cleave the gloom ; 



152 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Worlds unimagined fill the realms of air, 
And words that make e'en angels dumb, 

In wondrous measures, tell 

Of bliss inefi"able — 
Symphonious of the life to come. 

And thus it chanced, one summer nieht. 
While slumber held me fast, 
That memories of the past. 
Entwining with vagaries bright, 
The grotesque fabric of a vision wove. 

My narrow room, I dreamed ****** 

1857. 




FRAGMENT. 



subject: some un-genus-ed flower, such as may often be 

FOUND IN THE GAKDEXS OF FANCY, IF NOT ELSEWHERE. 




* * * ^: :); ^: 

HE diamond dews that gleam at morn. 
The singing gales that blithely Mow, 
And bees that wind the early horn. 

Through all her buds transfuse the glow 
Of waking blissfulness. 
The pearly dews that shine at even, 

The whispering winds that softly creep, 
And flies that mock the lamps of heaven. 
Through all her bloom, induce the sleep 
Of dreaming blissfulness. 

"When morn withdraws, with rosy hand. 

Night's spangled veil, broidered with dreams, 

And spreads out o'er the laughing land 
A lucid web of golden dreams. 
Like girlhood's innocence. 

In budding beauties, she's arrayed; 
While many a shrub of thickest green 

(153) 



154 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Weaves o'er her head a bowery shade, 
From th' ardent eye of day to screen 
Her tender innocence. 

When noon, with steep descending ray. 

Checkering the groves with glimmering spots, 
Drives hill-side elf and woodland fay 

To secret haunts of twilight grots. 
Like maiden's chastity. 
With morning dew still fresh and bright, 

Her buds she opens to the sun ; 
Yet courts she not his broadest light, 

Nor coyly seeks his glance to shun, — 
So true is chastity. 

When day in mellow haze declines. 

And pensive shadows bar the scene. 
And, shooting far in slanting lines. 

The sunbeams gild the waving green. 
Like woman's loveliness, 
Tinged with the purest hues of heaven. 

In beauty full, mature, she stands, 
And when the solemn shades of even 

All things enshroud, still she expands 
In ripening loveliness. 

•P *I* SjC 5JC ^ jJC 

1859. 



PREFACE TO WHAT FOLLOWS. 



One beautiful morning in June — the month " when, if ever, 
come perfect days"— a maiden, beautiful and summery as the 
morning, gave me a rose, and begged of me a ballad. I had 
never written a ballad in all my life — a thing beyond me ; never- 
theless, I had the hardihood to venture a promise, trusting that 
then, if ever, inspiration would come upon me. So, with some 
adjuring words, I called on Fancy, and bade her furnish me with 
some image or picture suitable to the gift— worthy of the giver. 

"With compliant hand, slowly she unrolled her varied pano- 
rama ; the airy canvas bringing, in shifting review before mc, 
image after image, picture after picture — all pleasing enough, it 
is true, but not with the spell of music upon them, that I should 
bid my harp awake and try them. Yet, as they pleased me, and 
I would not they should be lost, I hastened, ere the receiving- 
roller caught them from view, to embody them in words as faith- 
fully as might be, hoping the while that each succeeding revolu- 
tion of the dispensing-roller would yet unfuld to me some image 
or conception that might be wed to music. But, on a sudden, the 
airy panorama stood still, the scenic lights went out, the curtain 
dropped ; and lo ! for the promised ballad, nothing had I to show 
but this piece of crystallized prose. 



(155) 



THE APOCALITSE OF THE SEASONS. 



A SPRING MORNING. 




IJROM the bright threshhold of her orient towers, 
The morn, advancing, strokes with wakening- 
palm 

The dewy forehead of the slumbering Earth ; 
And, as she comes, her ruddy steps imprint 
The peaked clouds, as if the beautiful feet 
Of them that bring glad tidings were abroad 
On those ethereal mountains. Awake ! come forth. 
My fair one ; let us hence to greet her steps. 
Ere from the flowery lap of hazy dell 
And breezy-wooded top of burnished hill 
The sun-bright borders of her misty skirts 
She gather staid about her, and withdraw, 
In waning beauty, from the earth. See, lady, 
With rosy, beckoning hand, and nods, that send 
Iler locks ambrosial flowing on the winds. 
She bids us come ; and in these prismed dews, 

(lo6) 



THE APOCALYPSE OP THE SEASONS. 157 

Let fall by night in silent benediction, 
Behold her, how she multiplies her smiles 
Of greeting, bright with pledges of the joys 
Dispensed to all that court her earliest beams. 

Blithe is her light that, from the starred expanse 
Of aether's serene ocean, wells and floods. 
With amber billows, half our " sphery isle." 
And sweet her breath, whether from humid depths 
Of waving shade it comes, or grain-fields glad 
With waving sunshine, or from garden-bowers 
Of vines, inwoven with enamelling bloom. 

And pleasant is the voice of morn, fair lady. 
Which, into many a rural descant wrought, 
And cadence long drawn out^ thou canst not choose 
But hear, delighted, in the lyric streams 
That leap hilarious from the jubilant hills. 
And minstrel wijids that sweep with whirring hands 
Th' noolian boughs of resonant groves, and sway 
Them into airy bowers of harmony ; 
In the brisk clarion of her herald-bird 
And cheery hum of busy, foraging bee; 
In school-boy's whistle, keen and brave, and song 
Of ploughman, wafted o'er the rustling maize. 
But more delighted shalt thou be if once 
Thou hear it in the sylvan matin-song 
Of all these happy, buxom little birds, 

14 



158 SEEN AND HEARD. 

That, •whistling, piping, trilling, warbling, cooing, 
Fill earth and echoing sky, e'en to the gates 
Of Glory, with melodious joy and praise. 

But sweetest shalt thou find the voice of morn 
If, in the full and blended harmony 
Of all these sounds, thou hear it and bethink 
Thee of the deep significance expressed 
Therein of youth and visionary days ; 
When life, with painted fantasies, o'er-vapored^ 
Seems but a voyage across aerial seas ; 
Whose past, a dream, unbroken by the present. 
And, in the future, gathering glory still: 
Whose thoughts and fancies but the nebulous glow 
Of passions in the soul's immensity ; 
Whose hope, a star, that scarce hath need to beam 
Where th' ever-present sun of gladness shines. 



A SUMMER NOON. 



THE morn is past, Pensylla. Day, in prime^ 
Stands on the summit of his shining arch. 
With nought distinguishable to outward view, 
T' impersonate his universal presence. 



THE APOCALYPSE OF THE SEASONS. 159 

Save his one burning eye of living light. 

In field and bushy wild the birds are mute, 
The welcoming strains of whose glad minstrelsy 
Led in the hours of morn, as if her dews 
Were wanting to attune their feathery pipes. 
In scattered dots of slowly shifting shade, 
The flocks and herds, now with cropped herbage filled. 
Composed and ruminating, wait the even. 

Not in the ruffled crest of verduous hill. 
Nor dimpled sheen of glassy-sliding stream. 
Is there betrayal of a single gust, 
Strayed vagabond. IIow tremulous the air 
"With heat ! Yet, t' eye and ear, how still withal ! 
'Tis midnight's hush, with radiance over-laid. 

And yet 'tis but the calm of conscious power : 
For Day, as mustering all his virtuous spells, 
Now holds the earth with deep, magnetic rays, 
Transfusing through her huge, quiescent frame 
Perennial vigor, generative warmth ; 
And to the verdure of her sloping zones 
Imparting riper hues. The flowers resign 
Their last sweet moisture to his thirsting beams, 
In lieu of richer dyes, more solid sweets ; 
The harvest goldens 'neath his ripening touch. 
From pale to darker red the berries turn. 
And o'er the apple's olive cheek there steals 



160 SEEN AND HEARD. 

A ruddier glow. Yet vanished by no means, 
Nor shall be, e'en when summer's prime be passed, 
All signs of vernal immaturity ; — 
Seen in these Indian files of tasselling maize, 
And orchards hung with crude, unsavory green, 
Which autumn, mellowing evening of the year. 
With tempering frosty to yellow ripeness brings. 
To purple sweets and red deliciousness. 

Day again moves — his noon crossed, soon as reached. 
And now, betwixt him and his distant morn, 
Begins to rise his crowning summit, Eve, 
Though still dim in the magic haze of distance^ 
In nearer view before him. Towards the East, 
Slowly, the trees their dial shadows turn. 
And cheerily a-field the farmer drives 
Hi.? lumbering reaper, whose revolving reel, 
With slow, successive stroke, bends the tall grain, 
Compliant to the jagged sickle-edge 
Of the fast-cutting, level knife that strews 
The smooth -shorn field with sheaves of unbound gold. 

A busy, blithesome tune this reaper sings, 
As close at hand it rolls along the field. 
With nicest cunning, clipping the yellow skirts 
Of Ceres, as it goes. Receding now. 
Its softened clamor, like the hum of bees. 



THE APOCALYPSE OF THE SEASONS. 161 

Cheerily down the stubbly vista comes. 

Now hid from view behind the shaven crown 

Of yonder low-browed hill, its muffled din, 

Like some far watery roar, heard through the depths 

Of drowsy woods, provokes the listening ear 

To listen still, and yet, and yet again ; 

Till silence, for a space, holds all the air. 

But scarce the echoes from their leafy perch 
Have ceased their quavering hubbub, when, once more, 
Obstreperous, round yon bearded knoll it comes, 
And with it, what delights the listener most. 
Heart-easing laughter, shout, and brisk hurrah, 
And labor-cheering song, that tell the praise 
To bounteous Nature, inly sung, while Day 
And Harvest, hand in hand, together wane. 



AN AUTUMN EVENING. 



AND now the mellowing hours bring on the Eve, 
My fair one. Pensive, on the quiet scene, 
Her lengthening shadows lie of woods and hills, 
And wreathing smoke, betokening homely cheer. 

From shedded hay-ricks and broad-breasted stacks, 
From stubble dun and meadows shorn, yet green 

14^ 



162 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Again, and smell of lingering flowers, that tell 
"Where Summer's golden sandals last were seen, 
Comes what, immingled, seems the memory sweet 
Of incense breathed at morn, now purer grown 
By passage through the filtering fires of Noon. 
From vocal streams, whose liquid choruses 
Meet Silence midway in her soft descent ; 
From choral winds that fill, with whispered hymns. 
The mossy aisles of leafy-vaulted woods, 
And birds that pour their warbled ecstasies 
O'er the bright edge of Day's decline, and song 
Of jocund laborers, homeward wending, come 
What seem sweet echoes of the voice of morn. 
Heard through the interflow of noontide air. 
Such anthems Eve, in sign of worship, sings; 
Such incense breathes, in sign of thankfulness. 
Pure is her light that erst, as orient light, 
From aether's serene ocean welled, and now, 
Returning, pours its ebbing, golden floods 
Sheer down the sloped sides of our floating isle, 
And leaves it, drifting huge, among the stars, 
A world of shades, departed waves of aether, 
In sphery music, closing from behind. 

And now, a vision of ineff"ablc beauty, 
I see her^ hovering o'er the glimmering hills, 



THE APOCALYPSE OF THE SEASONS. IGc 

The angel of the Day, sweet, solemn Eve : 

Tier shadowy locks, far-waving, dropping dews 

T' impearl the radiant forehead of the morn ; 

Gemmed with the crescent jMoon her brow benign ; 

Her stilly feet, with slumberous sandals winged ; 

The floating volumes of her lucid stole. 

Star-girt, and verged with shimmering light ; her hands, 

In benediction, o'er the earth outstretched : 

All glistering her serene and fathomless eyes 

"With ravishing glimpses of Elysian fields ; 

All musical, yet silent too, her lips 

Ethereal, with the words once dropped from heaven, 

Whose echo still in airs tei'restrial live : 

Sleep, sleep ! He giveth His beloved sleep ! 



A WINTER NIGHT. 



■\TIGHT, as in rigid trance, now holds the earth. 

-^^ IIow pulseless ! As if Death, that mightier shade, 

AVith icy hand had smote her many forms 

Of beauty, erst displayed in verdure, bloom, 

And crowning fruit, and withering without ruth. 

Had left the memory only, or the hope. 



164 SEEN AND HEARD. 

And yet 'tis but a jiause in Nature's pulse, 
Whore life lives on, unseen, unfelt, unheard, 
As in the pauses of a symphony, 
Unuttered music fills the listening soul. 

And what is Night but Earth's own shadow, cast 
On fcther by the Sun, that she may see. 
If pure her airs, the heavens wherein she moves, 
Erst hidden by the blue opaque of Day ? 
Another deep significance hath Night : 
Around, far-ranging, sweeps her slender cone, 
Traversing, like an index, th' ambient heavens, 
And, star by star, forever telling time — 
Forever pointing towards the Infinite. 

And Death ? 'Tis but the Winter of the Soul, 
Wherein her germ of immortality 
May gather strength and beauty for the Spring 
That endeth not, e'en in the endless Summer. 

O'er all the forms of matter Death has power. 
That life may multiply to infinity ; 
But o'er their essence, or their elements. 
He power hath none; for these, instinct with life 
Imperishable, make Nature what she is. 
Fit body to report the life of life to human sense. 
In proof whereof, behold the vernal resurrection 
Of the flowers, the autumnal ripening 
Of unfailing fruits, which lend their forms. 



THE APOCALYPSE OP THE SEASONS. 1G5 

That from their elements may spring the higher life 
Displayed in thought, sensation, motion : Man, th' micro- 
cosm. 
Then Death is change, and change is life, and life 
And change and Death are one — and God in all. 

Darker and darker sink the shades of earth, 
Brighter and brighter rise the lights of heaven. 
! blest, sublime Apocalypse of Night, 
That doth unfold in higher, wider view 
Than Day the wonders of his brighter sphere, 
More wonders. Infinite Wisdom to attest. 
Blest compensation ! proof how Love Divine 
Spangles, with glory, shades of sombrest hue. 
Blest reassurance! that in the universe 
There's nothing lost, though lost to human ken. 

Eternity, Pensylla, then, is ours; 
Wherein to seek, and find more goodly grown, 
More excellent, more fair, what we have lost, 
Amid the shadows of this dim sojourn, 
Of joy, or hope, or love, or thing of beauty, 
By fate adverse to opportunity. 
Or wise withholding of just heaven. In sign 
Whereof, see, on her ebon towers that mark 
Her Eastern goal, Night hangs her lesser orb. 
Clear beaming as th' Evangel's shield of faith, 



166 SEEN AND HEARD. 

In that, on her responsive disk is seen 

The reflex glory of the ruling orb, 

Unseen, which else might seem to earth as lost. 

Nor in the realms of air alone is all 
This glory spent : — the snowy plains of earth, 
Her frosty woods and hoary-headed hills. 
Her frozen lakes and icy-crystal veins, 
Glint a wan, solemn splendor, like the smile 
That sometimes, after Death hath fixed his seal, 
Comes o'er the fac s of the sainted dead. 
As if the disembodied spirit, poised 
On viewless wings, were lingering near to cast, 
Ere final parting, on the friend forsaken 
Some feeble beam, the pledge of light beyond. 
Wherein all mortal soil is purged away. 
And Immortality's pure robe put on. 

Then, to the spirit's perception unsufiused, 
Death, the portentous phantom that appalls 
The carnal sense of them who only see 
The shadow cast and not the light obscured. 
Is but an usher at the vestibule 
Of real life, opening its lucid ports 
Search more than to admit the disenthralled, 
Lest mortals, spying the radiant heights beyond. 
Grow weary of this dusky vale, and hence, 
Perforce, betake them ere his summons come. 



THE APOCALYPSE OF THE SEASONS. 16f 

DAWNING GLIMPSES OF IMMORTALITY. 



MORX, noon, eve, night— a day, a year — a life! 
What next? Another day? another year? 
For that, let hope suffice. Another life? 
For that, let faith. We are. What need wc more? 

Time his similitude may find in day ; 
His morn, the Past; though morn without a dawn 
Sprung from the glory of the dread Unknown ; 
His eve, the Future ; eve without a wane. 
Merged in the glory of the dread Unfound. 
But the similitude no further holds ; 
His noon, the Present, is forever here. 
As if he were a sun revolving round 
Th' Eternal and Immeasurable Orb — 
Eternity his year — his year, his noon — 
And drawing us, perforce, with him along, 
To keep the shadow of our destiny 
Forever cast in his meridian beams 
And on the equinox of the Unzoned Orb ; 
Forever from the night that follows on, 
And midway set betwixt the dread Unknown, 
The dread Unfound, and singing, without rest, 
' From Everlasting e'en to Everlasting, 
I am here ! — God is here ! — Now ! — Now " ! ! 



168 SEES AND HEARD. 

A light begins to climb, in cloven beams 
And hues auroral, up the Eastern sky. 
"Watchman ^'ho walk'st upon the walls and spell'st the stars. 
What of the night ? What mean those cloven beams 
Auroral in the sky ? turn thee towards 
Jerusalem, and tell us of the night ! 

The morning cometh — those, the foremost beams, 
Already imaged on the golden shields. 
Circling my watch-towers in the sky. Come up ! 
Behold ye not the Morning Star ? Return ! 
Abide in faith! in Him who came from Hades, 
His garments red with blood ! he came, he went ; 
Again he came and went — again shall come — 
His garments white with light ; but goes no more. 
Whence, whither, to what end, and how, his word 
Attests ; let that suffice — what need we more ? 
Our Morning Star, he shines till we to light 
May grow inured, when God, our Sun, shall shine, 
Tl»t ne'er hath ceased to shine, and shine forever I 

Then, Soul immortal mine, I give thee joy, 
As come from God, and thither to return. 
In some appointed order, when the years 
And seasons, measuring out in mystic dance 
The stages of thy trial, shall declare 
Thy morn of victory risen, and worthiness 



THE APOCALYPSE OF THE SEASONS. 1 09 

To be all glorified with some small beam 

Of glory, e'en the glory of Ilim that gave thee. 

A flame thou art, sprung from th' eternal Sun, 
Casting thy shade in Ilis all-flooding sheen, 
As fire that, burning in the sunshine, casts 
Its shadow on the ground — ^light breaking light — 
Breaking the less as clearer burns the blaze. 
Then, Soul of mine, burn clear! Nor self-eclipsed. 
Nor aught eclipsing, break that Light Divine 
From falling, in its beauty, strength and joy, 
On aught that lives, or man, or bird, or beast. 
Come not between that blessing and their need, 
Lest it from thee forever be withdrawn ; 
Uut in and through thy being let it shine, 
As shines the sun in heaven's bow-listed cloud 
And throwjli the " storied window richly dight," 
Where light is only varied to reveal 
ITow manifold its forms of beauty are. 

As darkness is but interrupted light, 
]']vil may be but interrupted good. 

Then, Soul of mine, burn clear ! Purge from thine essence 
All that may thwart or blur the Goodly Light, 
That they, in fleshly dungeons, may behold 
Through thee, as through a window open to heaven, 
IIow the Great Sun is shining on us all — 
How lovingly, how beautifully shining— 



170 SEEN AND HEARD. 

Till he may count thee worthy to be called 
The express image of his glory. 

Meanwhile, whate'er befall, abide in faith. 
The pains and sorrows that afflict thy being 
" Are but the shadow of God's providence,, 
By the great Sun of Wisdom cast thereon." 

When thoughts like these trouble my spirit's deep, 
Far glimpses of the Shining Infinite 
Break through the dawn of my incipient being. 
And, for a space, light up its mystic shades 
With glory unspeakable. The infinite 
In love, the infinite in harmony. 
In time, space, power— -in beauty, wisdom, goodness ; 
And when gone glimmering through the dread abyss, 
They leave me, once more wandering up and down. 
Lost in the mazes of my destiny — ■ 
Lost till my Morning Star once more I find. 

Watchman, what of the night ? The Morning Star 
Begins to pale, as from before th' advance 
Of Sovereign Glory ; the starry eyes of heaven , 
Whose guiding glances, erring never, led 
The trembling wanderer through the perilous night, 
Their blue lids soon shall close before the Eye 
That closes never ; and the moon, erewhile 
Bright as the shield of faith, shall cease, ere long, 



THE APOCALYPSE OF THE SEASONS. 171 

To be the evidence of light not seen. 

Come up, and look ye towards Jerusalem ! 
Where, city of beautiful gates and templed towers, 
And shining shapes glimpsing along her walls, 
All glorified, she's miraged on the heavens, 
Beneath the Morning Star, her Living Light! 
Come higher up, and look beyond! where, land 
Of beautiful entrances and templed mounts, 
With heavenly heralds glancing to and fro. 
Earth, glorified^ is miraged on the heavens, 
And rising to the Morning Star, her Crown I 

Ye prophets of Jehovah^ come and read, 
While yet the dome, insphering the dome of day, 
All pictured with the dreams of earth, enskied, 
Glows with the symbols of the Hand Divine, 
And, with illumined eyes, interpret us 
The dread hand-writing on those crystal walls ! 

To him who, with due reverence, fain would know 
All knowledge, fain would reach all excellence. 
The constellated glories of the heavens 
Boast not a meaningless magnificence ; 
But are the fiery hieroglyphs of God, 
Traced on the infinite blue scroll to spell 
The awful mysteries of Eternity ; 
To solve the mighty problem, star by star; 



172 



SEEN AND IIEAKD. 



System by sy.stem, of liigli Destiny, 
Whicli, never solved, yet solving ever, spreads, 
Advances, rises, briglitcns, grows in strength, 
Approacliing ever, reaching never, God, 
The Onuiipresent, tlic Unattainable ! 

18G-2, 18G8. 




/'i-ni(c</ h-j Kri:,!, rut ami r,.„,:,a„:', naUlmort, 



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